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THE 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


OP 

SAN FRANCISCO. 


BI A CAUFOENIAH. 


« 


\ 


SHOWING UP ALL THE VARIOUS CHARACTERS AND NOTABILITIES, (BOTH IN HIGH 
AND LOW life) THAT HAVE FIGURED IN SAN FRANCISCO 
SINCE ITS SETTLEMENT. 


NBW-TOEK: 

GARRETT & CO., PUBLISHERS, 

No. 18 Ann-Strbet. 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
GARRETT & CO., 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New-York. 


o 


/ 




OF 

SM FRASCISCO. 


CHAPTER I. 

Th^ Alarm — The Flames — The Ladder, 

San Francisco, on the marge of the 
sea, with towering hills behind her, lay 
basking in the sun like a serpent by the 
side of a rock. 

The dwellings of the more fortunate 
classes loomed pleasantly on the side of 
the large round hills in the distance, and 
might with the aid of a little fancy, have 
been metamorphosed into the castellated 
domains of . the feudal barons whose 
reign succeeded that of absolute barbar- 
ism in Europe. Those quiet dwellings 
amid the solitude of nature, present a 
vivid contrast to the stirring scenes of 


the town below, and accordingly all who 
possess taste and the means of gratify- 
ing it, rear a building among the hills 
to which they can retire, after the fat- 
igues of the day, and solace themselves 
with the comforts of domestic retiracy, 
and the grand simplicity of nature. 

In giving a d'miel at the scene, 
from the city itself, one is struck by the 
pointed roof rising above a range of hills 
which lie to the south west of the noble 
harbor, and which crowns a dark pile 
that, on a nearer approach, seems to 
lean against the side of a mountain upon 
whose peak linger the last beams of the 
setting sun. This extensive edifice is 
the dwelling or homestead of the wealthy 


8 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


and far-famed Senor de Castro, an old 
resident of the country, and one of the 
proudest of the ancient lords of the soil. 
His horses are the best, his table the 
most sumptuous, and his servants the 
most numerous of any ranchero in the 
regions round about California. 

It was early on one afternoon in J une, 
18 — , that several young men, mostly 
Americans, were conversing around a 
table in one of the principle Caffes in 
tne young city of San Francisco; a stout 
robust man nearly forty years of age, 
and dressed partly in the English style 
and partly in that of the country, with 
leggings and heavy blunt spurs, and a 
red sash about his middle, was discuss- 
ing the merit of the auguadent sold in 
Santiago, a city of Chille, and having 
become very eloquent on this important 
topic, he set down his glass upon the 
table so violently as to shatter it to 
atoms. 

‘ Give me your good old-fashioned 
horn tumbler,’ cried he, with an oath, 
‘ and leave these baby-toys to the women 
and children !’ 

‘ You like to take your liquor in a 
horn V said a young American clerk to 
a provision dealer, ‘now I prefer a glass, 
if it were only for the cleanliness of the 
thing, 

Ves, by the mass! 

Give me a glass 
To toast a lass. 

In horns should never be. 

Remembered when 
We manied men 
Ctnad* denty or chee chee.* 

‘ You married men !’ exclaimed the 
stouter disputant, laughing. 

‘ A marriage extempore,’ muttered a 
saturnine young American, with an 
enormous head of black hair. ‘ When 
are you going to send that little girl 
back to her mother V 


* Silence, Pothook !’ cried the other, 
‘ you know that you would have given 
all the old shoes in your locker to have 
got one smile from her, yourself’ — 

‘ Yes, envious Pothook,” cried anoth- 
er youth, whose accent betrayed the 
Cockney, ‘if Cardwell has a notion to 
settle down in the calm of domestic life, 
and ’ — 

‘ Settle ! Ten thousand blunderbus- 
ses!’ laughed the stout man, ‘When did 
you ever know Cardwell to settle any- 
thing but his grog bills — them’s the set- 
tlements he is most accustomed to.’ 

‘ But I mean,” added the Cockney ; 
‘ that he is not running around after 
every pretty face like — like some people, 
always excepting the present honorable 
company, as a matter of course.’ 

‘ Oh ! of course !’ said Pothook foel- 

‘ Yet,” remarked a tall, pale young 
man, who seemed to have recovered from 
some dangerous illness — ‘ Yet, let me 
tell you that Cardwell is not so innocent 
after all, as he seems to be. I saw him, 
the other day, stand for half an hour, 
looking up at a certain house in Clay 
street with all the eyes in his head, and 
meaning no offence to the gentleman, I 
don’t by any manner of means dispute 
his taste.’ 

‘ Oh ! the young villain I’ cried the 
stout man, roaring with laughter. 

In the midst of his jollity and noisy 
vociferations, a young fellow from ‘ the 
States ’ who had been silent until then, 
demurely asked — ‘ Do any of you know 
what is good for rats V 

This made the stout man laugh still 
louder — ‘ You had better enquire what 
is had for rats,’ said he at length ; ‘ for 
to judge by their sleek hides and plump 
bellies, I should think they had already 


OF SAN FKANCISCO. 


9 


Lad enough that was good and wholesome 
— perdition catch the born devils ! Last 
night, about an hour before morning ’ — 
the speaker stopped, as the sound of a bell 
rang violently, and the cry of ^ fire ’ at 
once arose in the streets. 

^ Never mind, go on !’ said the Cock- 
ney. 

‘ Never mind the bell,’ said Cardwell. 
‘We can’t be disturbed in our pleasures 
by these domestic affairs.’ 

‘ Why, by the noise,’ said the stout 
man, ‘ it would appear that there was a 
polite invitation given to all citizens that 
their presence might be required in the 
adjoining streets, and as the wind is com- 
ing up fresh ’ 

‘ There is no time to be lost, my good 
fellows !’ cried a tall, elegantly formed 
youth, rushing into the apartment from 
an adjoining room. Half the city is in 
flames !’ 

So saying, the youth hastened away, 
followed by the revellers. 

The whole town was in an uproar. As 
they gained the street, they were met by 
the strong sea breeze that filled the air 
with dust, and betokened no good to 
those whose property was at that mo- 
ment encircled by the flames. 

The Sansome Truck Company, with 
their hooks and ladders, were rushing 
by, their scarlet coats powdered with 
dust, and making the welkin ring with 
their shouts. The elegant youth of whom 
we have spoken was one of the first that 
reached the fire. Already was the house 
of Senor del Castro completely enveloped 
by sheets of flame, and from the windows 
of some of the adjoining buildings the 
streams of fire darted forth, and moved 
swiftly off toward the South on the wings 
of the gale. 

Several persons, among whom were 


Cardwell, and the stout man of the cafe, 
busied themselves in tearing up the 
planks in the immediate vicinity of the 
conflagration, for the streets being laid 
down with plank, instead of stones, aid 
greatly in the spread of the flames. The 
firemen had brought streams of water 
to bear on the principal building, when 
suddenly there appeared at an upper 
window, a fair and youthful female form, 
evidently belonging to one of the higher 
classes of the country, whose dark hair 
fell in rich masses about her shoulders, 
and partly concealed a face in which the 
snow and the rose contended for mas- 
tery. 

For an instant every one paused in 
astonishment, nor was her overmastering 
beauty unheeded in that moment of 
fearful excitement; for the cry that a 
woman was in the house now rose shrilly 
on the air, and was echoed in every 
street in the city. The ladders were 
hurried to the spot by men frantic in 
their haste to save so fair a specimen of 
mortality from a dreadful death, while 
the object of all this interest, the lovely 
cause of the wild confusion that pervaded 
the masses below, simply placed ono 
little white hand to her eyes as if to shut 
out the sight of the surrounding horrors, 
and steadied herself with the other by 
placing it on the sill of the window. 

In the moment that the ladder was 
placed against the side of the house, a 
shrill cry was heard in the rear of the 
firemen, and a stately form was seen forc- 
ing itself through the throng with giant 
strides, and thrusting aside e erybody 
and everything which opposed its pro- 
gress. One glance was sufficient to con- 
vince the spectators that the father of 
the imperrilled girl was rushing to her 
rescue. His hat was gone, and his dark 


10 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


but silvered loeks floated on the breeze, 
the sweat stood in beads upon his broad 
forehead, and his face, though bearded 
and mustachoied according to the custom 
of the country, was pale with anxiety 
and horror. 

‘ Oh, for the love of God !’ cried he, 
* my daughter ! my daughter !’ 

As he reached the front of the build- 
ing, the flames gushing from the lower 
windows drove back the brave men who 
had charge of the ladder. The Senor 
del Castro clasped his hands, and utter- 
ing a cry of despair, would have rushed 
into the house, the lower part of which 
was completely filled with flames. The 
stout man of the cafe threw himself 
upon the distracted father, and by the 
timely aid of Cardwell and the Cockney, 
succeeded in dragging him out of the 
reach of danger. But the fire com- 
panies had not been idle while these 
events were transpiring. They had 
brought the ladder to the building "at 
another place. They had placed it firm- 
ly against the side of the house, when a 
man, addressing an officer of the Fire 
Department, exclaimed in a tone of des- 
pair, ^ Oh, my God ! Charley, the ladder 
is too short. It don’t reach anywhere 
near the window.!' 

Quicker than thought, Charley placed 
himself in front of the window at which 
the girl stood, and bade them place the 
feet of the ladder on his shoulders. In 
an instant, this was done, one foot of the 
ladder resting on each of his shoulders. 
The elegant youth of the cafe then 
sprang forward — 

‘ That’s right, Monteagle,’ cried Char- 
ley, ‘ climb right up by me and then on 
the ladder ; bring down the young lady 
or never live to tell of your failure.’ 

But before these words had been fair- 
ly uttered, the daring youth was half 


way up the ladder. All eyes were now 
fixed on the adventurer. For a moment 
all seemed silent except the hysteric 
wailings of the anguished father, and 
the awful roaring of the flames, as the 
wind swept through every aperture of 
the building, and added ten-fold to the 
fury of the conflagration. 

Before Monteagle had reached the 
lower sill of the window, he was discov 
ered to be on fire ; but at almost the 
same instant, a stream of water from 
the pipe of an engine drenched him to 
the skin. Then both the youth and the 
girl were entirely hidden from view by 
the rolling forth of a dense volume of 
smoke streaked with flame. One cry — 
one general cry of despair burst from 
the throng below, and the Senor, not 
doubting that both his daughter and her 
deliverer had perished, gave a deep groan 
and sunk senseless to the earth. But 
loud rose the voice of Charley upon tho 
air at the awful crisis — ‘ They are alive 
yet 1 Don’t be frightened, man, I feel the 
weight of both of them on my shoulders, 
now — now — the ladder shakes ! they are 
coming down !’ 

Several men with large ponchos were 
crowded around the bottom of the lad- 
der to smother the flames, in case the 
young lady should be on fire, by wrap- 
ping her tightly in these ample garments, 
and they looked up on hearing the cheer- 
ful exclamations of Charley. The feet 
and legs of a man were discerned below 
the smoke that had enveloped the upper 
part of the ladder, then the bottom of a 
lady’s robe, and finally the face of Mont- 
eagle begrimed and blistered looked 
down upon the trembling expectants. 
The head of the girl reclined on the 
shoulder of the gallant youth, her black 
hair flowing down his back, while her 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


11 


arms hung listless by bis sides — she was 
in a state of insensibility. 

As soon as Monteagle and his lovely 
burthen were within reach of the multi- 
tude a dozen hands grasped them, and 
while the friends of the youth bore him 
off on their shoulders to administer such 
healing remedies as his case required, for 
a part of his hair — his heavy brown 
locks — was burnt off, and a blister on 
his forehead showed too plainly that a 
moment longer would have consigned 
both the young lady and her deliverer to 
the realm from which no returning 
spirit has come back to describe the final 
parting of the soul from its material en- 
velope. 

The girl herself was carried to the 
arms of her father, who, just awaking 
from his swoon, cried in a gasping voice 
‘Inez! Inez! where is my Inez?’ and 
plucking a sharp-pointed dagger from his 
breast, he was about to end his agony by 
thrusting it to the hilt in his heart. 
Quicker than lightning, the man who 
was called Charley grasped the wrist of 
the desperate man, and holding it like a 
vice in his stalwart grasp, pointed with 
the other hand to the girl, and said in his 
rough masculine voice : 

‘ None of that ! If I’d thought you 
would take it so hard that we had saved 
your daughter’s life, but we would have 
— no, not that exactly, for she’s worth 
saving on her own account !’ 

While Charley was delivering this 
speech, the cinders were raining down 
on his head, and he shook them off as a 
lion would have shaken great flies from 
his forehead, but others were not so in- 
sensible to a shower of fire-brands, and 
the Senor was dragged farther from the 
scene of ruin. 

When the Senor perceived that his 


Inez was really by his side, he gave vent 
to the most extravagant exclamations of 
joy. Rushing to the Chief Engineer, 
whom he supposed to be the savior of 
his child, he clasped the sturdy fireman 
in his arms, called him every name that 
is flattering to the pride of man, emptied 
his pockets of all his gold, and tried to 
force into his hands a precious ring that 
he wore on his finger, and which was 
said to contain a diamond of great value. 
Charley said that his duty called him 
elsewhere, and we next saw him plung- 
ing into the thickest of the throng to 
bring up his forces to the principal point 
of attack, and to expedite the tearing 
up of the planks on the street, for they 
had become thoroughly ignited in some 
places, and the flames were marching 
through the slight wooden buildings of 
the town with the imperious step of a 
conqueror. 

No sooner had the young lady recov- 
vered consciousness, than she raised her- 
self to her feet, and looked anxiously 
on every side as if in search of some 
object which she could not find. 

‘ Here comes your father,’ said Card- 
well, who had been the most officious in 
bearing off the girl to a place of safely, 
and applying cold water and other res- 
toratives to her face and temples. 

Inez took the hand of her father, but 
still her eyes wandered through the 
throng as if seeking another, and while 
she was led away by the old Senor, she 
walked listlessly and thoughtfully, as if 
something pressed heavily upon her 
mind. 

By this time every gambling-house, 
every drinking shop, every pulperee, and 
every theiving den had poured out its 
crowds upon the streets of San Francis- 
co, and a vast proportion of the inhabi- 


12 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


tants of the city were thronging around 
the scene of conflagration. Here was a 
gang of thieves, prete nding to be very 
officious in removing the goods from a 
store-house that had just kindled, while 
the eager glancing of their eyes, and the 
half- shy, half-brazen way they shout- 
ed to each other, by way of encourage- 
ment to preserve and to hasten the work, 
sufficiently denoted that they had come 
to purloin whenever an opportunity offer- 
ed, and that their zeal was merely in- 
tended to blind the eyes of others, and 
lull suspicion in regard to their ulterior 
purposes; and it would seem that no 
lack of opportunity was here, for such 
was the excitement, such was the confu- 
sion, the tumbling of men upon others, 
the running hither and thither, the cries 
of alarm and distress, the shriek of the 
wind, and the roaring of the flames as 
they went leaping, darting, and whirling 
from house to house, from corner to cor- 
ner, and from street to street, that the 
cautious thief whose heart was marbled 
against human sufferings, and thought 
only of turning the disasters of others 
to his own advantage, might carry on his 
nefarious trade with almost as much im- 
punity as that of the burrowing mole, 
who treasures his stolen grain under the 
earth while the plain above is rent by 
the tempest’s fury. 

Yet, even in the general whirl of rea- 
son and reflection attendant upon these 
rapid conflagrations, there sometimes 
chances to be an eye unengaged for a 
moment which may light upon the plun- 
derer in the very nick of time, and when 
least expected by himself. Such was 
the case now, just as the flames had 
reached Montgomery street, and were 
reaching forth their long red tongues to- 
wards the pile of stores on Jackson 


street, the Cockney mentioned at the 
commencement of this narrative saw a 
fellow hugging to his bosom a little iron 
safe, and stealthily escaping under cover 
of the smoke, along the street towards 
the harbor. 

He raised the cry of ^ Stop thief I 
Picaroon! Coquin and in as many 
other languages as he could bring to his 
aid, he gave the alarm to such individu- 
als as were within the reach of his voice. 
The merchants themselves who were near 
the spot, joined in the chase, and in less 
than two minutes more than a hundred 
persons were at the heels of the man 
with the safe. He headed directly for 
the water, and had nearly reached it, 
when a couple of Chinamen in bluo nan- 
keens threw themselves across his path. 
The desperate wretch dashed the iron 
safe into the face of one of them, still 
retaining hold of it, however, and he fell 
covered with blood, and then, with one 
hand, the thief grasped the long cue of 
the other and jerked him to the ground. 
He then darted forward again, leaving 
the two disastered Fee*fo*fums sitting 
upright in the middle of the street, and 
uttering the most doleful lamentations. 
Amain the crowd came sweeping down to 
the water s edge, tumbling the two China- 
men over and over, who cried out most 
piteously while rolling in the dust under 
the feet of the pursuers. The thief per- 
ceiving DO way of escape on the land, 
sprang into a skiff and pushed off from 
the shore. For a moment, his foes stood 
panting on the shore like baffled tigers, 
eyeing the man as with two small oars 
he ploughed through the waves and re- 
ceded farther and farther from the strand. 
At length a loud hail was heard from a 
point farther down, some three hundred 
yards from the spot where the pursuers 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


13 


were clustered, and on turning their eyes 
in that direction, the crowd beheld a 
slender but well-formed youth tugging 
at a heavy boat, which lay partly on the 
shore and partly in the water, and vain- 
ly endeavoring to get it afloat. 

With a yell that rang on the air like 
the onset cry of a troop of wild Indians, 
the whole body of pursuers ran towards 
the boat. 

‘ Hah ! Monteagle, is that you V cried 
our Cockney, who arrived first at the 
spot — ‘ It was I who gave the alarm ! 
How much is there in the safe V ‘ That 
is best known to my employers,’ return- 
ed Monteagle evasively, ‘enough, you 
may be sure, to warrant the most vigor- 
ous endeavors in getting it into our 
hands. Those who take the thief will 
be well rewarded.’ 

‘ Come then ! heave 0 ! heave, ahoi !’ 
cried three or four lusty fellows who had 
now come up, and applied their shoulders 
to the boat in goqd earnest. It , began 
to move, and as it finally slid roaring in- 
to the waves, Monteagle, and a dozen 
others leaped on board. A few strokes 
of their long oars cleared them from the 
beach and gave free play to their motions 
as they sunk the blades of their oars 
deep into the brine, and threw themselves 
far back at every stroke ; a movement 
which to the practised eye of the mari- 
ner at once announced that whatever 
experience they might previously have 
had in this line, was not in the service 
of the nation, but had been acquired in 
the pursuit of that marvellous fish which 
swallowed Jonah. 

The winds were unusually violent 
that afternoon, and the water was very 
rough. This circumstance was much in 
favor of the large boat, and although 
the robber was a powerful man, and ex- 


erted his utmost, yet his pursuers ccti- 
tinually gained upon him. He was ob- 
liged to stop a few moments to bail out 
his skiff, using one of his boots for that 
purpose ; and this fact at once convinced 
Monteagle and his men that he labored 
under great disadvantages in a sharp, 
combing sea such as w^as then driving 
into the harbor, before the screaming 
gale. The thief himself seemed to give 
up all hope of escape and relaxed his 
efforts, no doubt husbanding his strength 
for exertions of a different character. 

‘ Now, my brave fellows,’ cried Mont- 
eagle, ‘lay back and give it to her! do 
your prettiest and you can make the old 
barge hum, and we’ll soon come up with 
that picaroon yonder; and understand 
that I am authorized to promise a high 
reward.’ 

‘ Oh, never mind the reward,’ inter- 
rupted a stout Irishman, magnanimous- 
ly. ‘It’s for the pure honor of the thing 
that we are working, sure, and to sup- 
port the laws.’ 

‘ Yes, to support the laws !’ cried a 
short, stout, red-faced fellow, of such 
equivocal appearance, that one might have 
taken him for a beardless youth or a man 
of sixty years, for a native or a foreigner, 
a cunning knave or a natural fool. He 
carried an enormous head on his broad 
round shoulders, upon which were only 
a few scattering hemp-like hairs, but Lis 
cheeks were fat and smooth, and his eyes 
always seemed ready to roll out of their 
sockets. 

‘ Yes, to support the laws I’ said th^ 
strange being, in a smothered tone that 
seemed to proceed from the bottom of 
the abdomen, while his heavy goggle eyea 
seemed to be thinking of something al- 
together foreign from the, subject, and 
the continual working of his enormous 
moutl) led Monteagle to say to himself 


14 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


that the fellow was * chewing the cud of 
sweet and bitter fancy.’ 

Bnt now they were within two oars’ 
length of the villain in the skiff, when 
the later ceased rowing, and starting up- 
on his feet, brandished one of his oars in 
the air as if it had been the mace of an 
ancient knight, and shrieked out in a 
tone of fury, that he ‘ would dash in the 
skull of any man that laid a flipper on 
him I’ 

As Monteagle stood up in the head of 
the boat, this threat might be considered 
a matter more directly appertaining to 
himself than to any other person pres- 
ent. Yet, every one uttered a shout of 
defiance, and half a dozen strokes brought 
the barge up to the skiff. The head of 
the large boat struck the skiff a-mid- 
ships, square off and on, and for 
an instant it seemed as if the latter 
would have turned bottom up. The 
thief, however, balanced his boat well, at 
the same instant that he struck a terri- 
rible blow with his oar at the head of 
Monteagle. The youth evaded the fall, 
tng oar, by jumping dexterously aside 
and, at the same moment, drew a 
pistol from his breast. Before he could 
fire, he was surprised by a powerful blow 
on the side of his head which came from 
behind. Turning his head, he saw the 
big Irishman who had so gallantly dis- 
claimed all interested motives, with both 
fists double and ready to repeat the blow 
which had nearly deprived him of recol- 
lection. This, however, lasted but an 
instant, for all was confusion now. The 
Irishman was choked down by an En- 
glish cooper ; the man with the big head 
and wide mouth came to the aid of the 
Irishman, while the robber in the skiff 
dashed his oar into the faces and brought 


it down lustily on the heads and backs of 
his adversaries in the barge. 

The diversion which had been made in 
favor of the robber, plainly announced 
that the Irishman and the big head were 
accomplices of the former, and had en- 
tered the barge aud joined the pursuit 
in order to render him efficient aid in 
time of need. 

The fight became general. Big Head 
and the Irishman fully engaged the at- 
tention of Monteagle and two men of 
the barge’s crew, while the robber, deter- 
mined not to be taken alive, fought with 
a desperation not to be imagined by any 
who have never seen a man resolved up- 
on death or escape. 

‘Blast me!’ cried the Cockney, ‘but 
these Sydney ducks are hatched out in 
the wrong nest,’ as he received a kick in 
the face from Big Head while the latter 
was struggling under a thwart and using 
both hands and feet to defend himself 
against the loyal portion of the barge’s 
crew. This melee had lasted some time, 
during which the pistol of Monteagle 
had passed into the hands of the big 
Irishman, who falling a second time 
from the effects of a chance blow dealt 
by his accom plice in the skiff, pointed 
the weapon at Monteagle as he fell, and 
pulled the trigger. The charge took 
effect on the youth ; . everything grew 
suddenly dark around him, and he fell 
senseless into the bottom of the boat. 
The battle, however, was still waged with 
relentless fury on both sides. The rob- 
ber, cheered by the hope of final victory, 
now sprang from his skiff in to -the barge, 
and stamping on the head of Monteagle 
as he lay insensible under the thwarts, 
he used his par, now broken into a con- 
venient shape and size, about the heads 
of his enemies. To say that blood flow- 
ed, would be nothing new, as there was 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


15 


scarcely a man in the boat who had not 
received a wound already ; but now 
heads and arms were broken ; sometimes 
Big Head and the Irishman were both 
down at a time, and then victory seemed 
certain to the loyal party ; then the for- 
mer would be up again and fighting des- 
perately. But three men against eight 
or nine could not hold out forever, and 
the big Irishman, at length, reeled and 
sank, overcome by fatigue and loss of 
blood. Big Head was then silenced by 
a rap on the skull with a tiller, and after 
a most desperate resistance, the robber 
himself was bound hand and foot. 

The crew then sat down to take breath, 
and next proceeded to wash the blood 
from their faces. On their way to the 
shore they were met by another boat 
that had put off to their assistance, and 
in her was recognized Mr. Vande water, 
one of the firm that had been robbed. 

‘Where’s Monteagle?’ was the first 
enquiry of this gentlemen as the two 
boats met. 

The boat’s crew started and looked 
about them, discovered the youth lying 
senseless in the bottom of the boat. 
Smarting under their own wounds, and 
hot with the late contest, they had en- 
tirely forgotten the lad who led the 
charge. ‘ Oh !’ said the Cockney, bind- 
ing a handkerchief about his scarred 
head, ‘ I had like to have forgotten him, 
sir. It was he that first got hold of the 
barge — I was the one that saw the thief 
take the safe — I gave the first alarm, 
sir.’ 

Mr. Vandewater by this time held the 
head of young Monteagle on his knee, 
and was examining into his condition, 
but, looking up a moment, he replied to 
the Cockney, 

‘ And the safe, where is it V 

‘ There, now,’ ejaculated the robber as 


be wiped, the bloody foam from his 
mouth against his shoulder, ‘ what a fool 

I was that I did’nt cast the d thing 

into the drink, God ! theydl get it. 

Mr. Vandewater assisted in removing 
Monteagle to the other boat, and telling 
the men in the barge to call in the morn- 
ing at his house, he told the rowers in 
his own yawl to pull for the skiff. The 
little bark was soon reached, and the 
safe was found in its bottom. Mr. Van- 
dewater took possession of his property, 
and returned speedily to the shore with 
Monteagle, whose situation, if he were 
indeed alive, required immediate atten- 
tion. 

When the barge reached the landing, 
there was no lack of welcomers on the 
beach, for the latter part of the battle in 
the boat had been observed by many 
spectators. The robber, who had es- 
caped injury better than could have 
been expected, was handed out of the 
barge amid the shouts of the populace, 
and taken possession of by the police.; 
but, strange as it may seem, the Irish- 
man and Big Head were suffered to go 
among their friends ; perhaps it was 
judged by their appearance that they had 
suffered punishment enough already. 

The devastations of the fire had been 
wide and fearful. In an incredible short 
time, a large portion of the cit had 
been laid in ruins. — Houses and streets 
had suffered alike, the planking of the 
thoroughfares rendering them equally 
combustible with the buildings. 

On the day succeeding these events, a 
pale youth, with a bandage about his 
temples, lay in a darkened room some 
two miles from the town of San Francis- 
co, seeming to be as^e'^p ; and yet the 
almost marble whiteness of tho features 
might have led a casual spectator to 


16 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


suppose that the coroner was required 
in his case, rather than the surgeon. 
The bed upon which he lay, as well as 
the chaste elegance of the furniture 
about the apartment, betokened that the 
master of the mansion had eminently 
been successful in the general sruggle 
for wealth, and also that he possessed a 
liberal taste which enabled him to em- 
ploy his means for the embellishment as 
well as for the support of life. The 
windows of the chamber looked out upon 
an extensive garden, nicely arranged and 
kept, and romantically varied with rocks 
and underwood of natural growth. The 
house itself was an elegant edifice stand- 
ing on a hill-side, and commanding a fine 
view of the surrounding country. 

CHAPTER 11. 

The Breaking Heart — A Scene of Ten- 
denies s and Despair. 

The pale slumberer lay perfectly still, 
and a close observer could scarcely have 
perceived that he breathed. Thus had 
he lain a few moments, when a side door 
slowly opened,' and a fair feminine coun- 
tenance, a perfect blonde, surmounted 
with a profusion of flaxen ringlets, was 
thrust gently into the apartment. Then 
the door opened wider, and the symmetri- 
cal form of a young girl of seventeen 
years stood in the apperture. She lis-. 
tened a moment, and then advanced one 
tiny foot into the chamber; then the 
other ; and finally she stood within the 
apartment, but with the door left open 
behind her. There stood the beautiful 
sylph trembling and pale, and sometimes 
looking back, as if hesitating whether to 
proceed or return. At length she stept 
lightly forward and fixed her eyes upon 


the countenance of the slumberer. She 
instantly clasped her hands across her 
bosom, raised her Jarge blue eyes to hea- 
ven, and an expression of deep agony 
rested on those sunny features, like a 
heavy thunder cloud passing over a 
beauteous landscape in midsummer. 

Her timidity seemed to have fled with 
the first glance that she had bestowed 
upon the invalid. Turning her back to- 
wards him, she even murmured aloud, 
‘And all this he has suffered for the 
preservation of my uncle’s property. 
Oh ! why could he not have delegated 
that duty to others more fitted for such 
rude work ? Already had he performed 
a deed sufficient to gild his name with 
perpetual glory — in saving an accom- 
plished — an — an — in saving human life ; 
for it matters not who she was. To save 
a life is enough, and at the risk of his 
own.’ 

She turned and looked once more at 
the sleeping youth ; again she pressed 
her hands against her heart, and, this 
time, she sighed deeply. A footstep was 
heard in the passage way, approaching 
the door that opened into the hall, and 
gliding through the one at which she had 
entered, the ypung girl had retired, just 
as two other individuals entered the sick 
chamber. One of those who now ap- 
proached the couch of the invalid was 
a tall, slender, middle-aged man, elegant- 
ly attired, and yet with a sort of grace- 
ful negligence which drew the attention 
of the observer rather to the manners 
and bearing of the gentleman himself, 
than to the garb in which he was ar- 
rayed. 

The other gentleman wore a plain suit 
of black, was of middling height, with 
light hair and eyes, and probably thirty 
years of age. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


17 


• Yes> doctor,’ said the latter gentle- 
men, as they entered the room , ‘ It is 
as I tell you,’ 

‘ But, sir,’ returned the other, ‘ recol- 
lect the acquaintanship — female timidity 
and the gentleness of the sex’s nature. 
To see one whom she had so long known 
dangerously wounded, brought suddenly 
into the house, with a mind unprepared ; 
remember all the attendant circumstan- 
ces, Mr. Vande water, and you will not 
be astonished that the poor girl exhibit- 
ed symptoms of agitation.’ 

‘ Oh, yes, yes, my dear sir. Other- 
wise she would not be woman,’ replied 
the merchant. ‘Agitation, sympathy, 
pity, all these were to be expected. But, 
sir, she would have been frank in the 
expression of her sympathy if all had 
been welL Instead of that, she strove 
to hide her concern. She became as 
pale as chalk — as white as milk, sir ; and 
moved off without uttering a syllable, 
or making the least inquiry, and if my 
wife had not followed her and supported 
her to her chamber, she would have fell 
lifeless to the floor.’ 

‘ His pulse is better,’ said the doctor, 
whose thoughts now ran in the line of his 
profession, and who had taken the youth 
by the wrist. He will escape a fever — 
it was that I dreaded.’ 

‘ And then her aunt has remarked her 
deportment while in the presence of the 
young man.’ 

‘A fine constitution, sir. You must 
not throw him away — don’t give him up 
yet. I think he will be restored to you, 
after all’ 

‘ She is the daughter of a beloved 
brother, whose death, some ten years ago, 
occasioned me the most poignant dis- 
tress. and I shall tal^e care of her as 
if she was my own child.’ 


‘You must not let him be disturbed, 
sir, and I will leave something to be ad- 
ministered to him as soon as he wakes.* 

‘ I don’t think you heard my last ob- 
servation, sir.’ 

‘ Oh, yes — 1 heard, sir. You remark- 
ed that she was the daughter of your 
esteemed brother : but, pray, sir, if the 
young people love one another” — 

‘You don’t understand me, sir,’ was 
the quick coup de parole of the mer- 
chant. ‘ I did not say that the young 
people loved each other.’ 

‘ Ah ! now I understand,’ said fhe 
surgeon, looking really concerned. ‘ I 
see — you wish to preserve your niece’s 
happiness, not to prevent it I’ 

‘ Exactly, sir. There is not a man in 
the world to whom I would sooner marry 
my niece, than to him who lies before 
you. Of unquestioned integrity, can- 
did, honorable, devoted to my interests, 
of elegant manners, without being effem- 
inate, humane as he is brave, well edu- 
cated, and of respectable parentage. I 
find no fault in Lorenzo Monteagle — 
none at all, sir. But my niece shall be 
forced upon no man, sir. The king’s 
son is not good enough for her, when it 
comes to that.’ 

‘ But will he not, in time, admire Miss 
J ulia, sir. It appears to me, that if I 
were a bachelor ’ — 

‘ You should’nt have her if you were, 
sir ’ — interrupted V andewater with a 
burst of langhter that made the oun- 
ded man start in his sleep, ‘ would I 
have a son-in-law or a nephew-in-law, 
think you, that carries about with him 
such awful weapons — those horrible 
saws, gimlets, I .know not what you call 
them, I should never feel sure of my 
legs and arms one moment, while he 
was in the house — ha ! ha I ha !’ 


18 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


* However that may be/ said the 
other, ^ if I were a young swain like 
your paragon here, I should deem my 
delf but too happy to try to win a smile 
from that fair niece of yours, and if you 
are really willing that the match should 
take place ’ — 

‘ It will never be,’ returned the mer- 
chant, gravely interrupting the surgeon 
— ^ Monteagle is very fastidious, even in 
his friendship. He is a singular young 
man. It must be a .particular woman 
that strikes his fancy, possessed of deci- 
ded qualities ; none of your pretty faces 
and piano songs will steal away his 
heart. Of that I am too well assured. 
More than one young lady has tried her 
utmost skill ’ — 

‘But has the man no heart f 

^ So decidedly one that it must have a 
decided choice,’ cried the merchant, ‘ be- 
fore it can consent to own itself the 
property of another. He likes the so- 
ciety of ladies ; but he does not prefer 
one to another. I am persuaded that he 
has never seen the woman he can love. 
He has known Julia more than two 
years, and has never treated her differ- 
ently from other women. But it mat- 
ters not. So you think the young man 
is fairly out of danger ?’ 

‘ It might be going too far to say so, 
sir — but I think he will rex^over. I 
would not be afraid to stake a hundred 
ounces on the event.’ 

‘ Glad to bear that. I don’t doubt 
your skill, Doctor, so let us walk below 
and finish that old Madeira before it gets 
any sourer.’ 

After another brief examination of 
his patient, the surgeon followed Mr. 
Vandewater down stairs ; and in half an 
hour afterwards might have been seen 
mounting his horse and winding over the 


hills and through the valleys towards 
the town of San Francisco. 

Several days had passed since the 
occurence of the events mentioned 
above, when on a fair morning, a pale 
youth sat in a recess at the bottom of 
the merchant’s garden. A staff stood by 
his side, an evidence that he was not yet 
able to walk without support, and his 
white attenuated hands were pressed to- 
gether in his lap, while his large blue 
eyes, which looked nearly black when 
contrasted with his white brow, were fix- 
ed upon some object in the distance. 
His gaze rested on the dwelling place of 
Senor del Castro; but what were his 
reflections, we cannot pretend to divine ; 
nor wa.s he long permitted to indulge 
them without interruption. 

From behind a cluster of bushes near, 
sailed out a figure in a white dress, which 
floating gently towards the invalid, pla- 
ced one hand upon his arm, and caused 
him to turn suddenly towards her. 

‘ Mr. Monteagle, I’m glad to see you 
abroad once more. Oh ! it looks so much 
more natural to see you up and stirring, 
that it really reminds me of old times.’ 

With a smile slightly sarcastic, the 
youth replied — ‘ I am but too happy to 
be the cause of reviving pleasant remin- 
iscences in the mind of Miss Vandewa- 
ter.’ 

A deep blush passed over the cheek 
and brow of the fair girl as she replied : 

^ You are very severe, sir. I will say 
then, in downright English, since I must, 
that I am rejoiced to see you improved 
in health, with a fair chance of recovery. 
Now, hlr. Critic, are you satisfied ? 

‘ Oh ! no doubt I ought to be, since 
Miss Vandewater has used the commonly 
approved phrase which custom has made 
necessary for all like occasions.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


19 


^ Nay, then I will send loez del Castro 
to you : no doubt she will do the honors 
of the occasion better — at least her 
mode will be more original than mine.’ 

Miss Vandewater uttered the Latter 
part of the sentence in a quick, hurried 
manner, and in spite of herself, delivered 
the word ‘ original ’ in a tone of consid- 
erable bitterness. The tears rose to her 
eyes, and she blushed deeper than ever. 
It was plain that she would have given 
much to recall her words and manner ; 
but it was too late. The youth looked 
down and sighed. 

The young lady heard that sigh, and 
it seemed to restore her to all her digni- 
ty. She lifted her head and shook back 
the flaxen curls from her snowy brow. 
‘ I know that you are not acquainted 
with Inez, though she— fainted in your 
arms ! It was very romantic.’ 

. ^ Monteagle had great self-possession ; 
but he was obliged to turn his face part- 
ly aside to conceal an expression of sur- 
prise and sorrow at the broad raillery in. 
to which the young lady suffered herself 
to be betrayed by feelings too palpable 
to be mistaken* The many instances in 
which she had evinced jealousy of any 
att ntion showed by Monteagle to other 
ladies, had long since let him into the 
secret— if secret it could be called. 

‘Miss Vandewater,’ said he, at length, 
‘I have seen the daughter of Senor del 
Castro but twice in my life, and have 
spoken to her, but on one occasion. 
When I stood at the top of the ladder 
enveloped in flame, 1 asked her to trust 
herself in my arms, and without betray- 
ing any affected delicacy, yet with great 
feminine dignity she placed her foot on 
the ladder and reclined upon my shoul- 
der.’ ■ 

‘ And did she say nothing V 


‘ She said, ‘ thankft, thanks, generoui 
American — my father will bless your 
name at the altar of his God!’ It waa 
all she said, and the next moment the 
smoke stifled her, and she became insen- 
sible on my bosom.’ 

‘ And, oh ! Monteagle !’ cried Miss 
Vandewater, clasping her hands and 
looking upwards, ‘ we heard that you 
were nearly perishing in the flames !’ 

As she -uttered these words, the tears 
gushed from her eyes, and throwing her- 
self upon a rock near the feet of the 
invalid, she covered her face with her 
hands and wept aloud at the recollection 
of that bitter moment. 

‘Ungrateful wretch that I am, how 
unworthy of this more than sisterly in^ 
terest which she takes in my welfare 1’ 
said Monteagle to himself, and' placing 
one of his hands upon the head of the 
unhappy girl, he said — ‘Oh ! it was not 
so bad as that a stream of water soon 
removed all inconveniences, and a very 
trifling burn was all that I suffered.’ 

The girl looked up, seized the hand 
that had been extended to her, kissed it 
vehemently, and fled, blushing, to the 
house of her uncle. 

‘ If the sacrifice of my life could make 
her happy !’ ejaculated Monteagle, brush- 
ing the tears from his eyes which he 
could no longer restrain. 


£0 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


CHAPTER III. 

The Dance House — The Bella Union — 
The Last Stake ! 

The night was dark in San Francisco 
— that city far away on the confines of 
the Pacific. And far other scenes and 
other deeds are witoessed there than it 
ever entered into the imagination of the 
dwellers on the Atlantic sea-board to 
conceive of. Description is at fault; 
words cannot paint the mingled web, 
and fancy has no colors sufficiently vivid 
to depict the peculiar state of society in 
the newly-risen metropolis of California. 
Naturalists describe the state of the 
world long before man became a dweller 
upon the earth, and the fossils which they 

ocure tell of strange animals that once 
existed here unlike anything which the 
world now presents. 

In Pacific street — named after the 
ocean that rolls her floods to the very 
doors of the Californian traders — there 
are several houses in which congregate 
the lower class of ruffians and pleasure- 
seekers, where the tamborene and fiddle 
are seldom allowed to rest, where the 
merry dance is kept up the live -long 
night by men of all nations, all complex- 
ions, and all professions. Here may be 
seen the Lascar, the Mulatto, the Chi- 
lian, the JBrazillian negro, the Nantucket 
whaleman, the escaped convict from Bo- 
tany Bay, the red-faced Englishman, the 
native of the soil, the Mexican ; and 
every other class and nation is here re- 
presented. Men of standing, wealthy 
people here flock promiscuously with the 
lowest classes of all countries. 

It was in one of these dance halls, 
wherre the usual throng was engaged in 


beating the floor with their feet to the 
tune of the most simple instruments of 
music. Now a tall smooth fellow of jet 
blackness asked a light-haired Yankee 
to touch glasses with him, while a little 
infirm man in a blue nankeen jacket, 
who had once been the mate of a ship, 
could find nothing better than to explain 
to a Chinese sailor, in one corner, the 
way in which a Turk’s head-knot was 
made upon a rope. But for the most 
part, boisterous mirth prevailed, some 
danced as if they had been bitten by a 
tarantula, while others roared out 
snatches from such songs as ears polite 
are not often saluted with. 

Whatever was done was thoroughly 
done, done with a vengeance, without 
restraint and without fear of disturbing 
the neighbors. 

On the night which we have mention- 
ed, the noise and confusion was unusual- 
ly great, the throng was more numerous 
than common from the fact that one 
watch was on shore from a whaleship in 
the harbor, and they had all blundered 
into this hall to drink and be merry. 

‘ Keep it up !* cried one long-legged, 
broad-shouldered fellow, throwing up one 
of his feet to the very wall and then 
dancing with a violence that threatened 
to bring down the roof about his ears. 

‘ He’s a boatsteerer,’ said one of the 
ship boys’ — ‘ he’s great at striking a 
whale,’ and he gazed with admiration on 
this specimen of Nantucket enterprise. 

‘ Keep it up !’ shouted the boatsteerer 
making his long legs fly about the room 
as if he was under the influence of a 
galvanic battery. 

‘Keep it up!’ screamed he again, as 
he caught a short Englishman by the 
arm and tried to inspire him with a por- 
tion of his own enthusiasm. 


or SAN FRANCISCO. 


21 


Yes^ ves,’ said the Euglislimau, biting 
off the end of a tobacco plug, and walk- 
ing olf to liic other side of the room to 
get out of the wind of those formidable 
iegs. 

‘ Keep it up !’ bawled the boatsteerer 
to a cou t e of Irishmen who happened to 
enter at the moment j and so it appear- 
ed that the sum and substance of all 
that was in this man’s cranium could be 
expressed in those simple words ^ Keep 
it up,’ a phrase that he continued to utter 
periodically throughout the entire even 
ing. 

But neither the Englishman nor the 
two Irishmen obeyed the summons on 
this occasion. They had ‘ kept it up’ too 
often and too long to be peculiarly entbu- 
^iastic at the sound of a fiddle. The 
two latter especially seemed to have 
other matter in hand, and seating them- 
selves upon one corner of a bench near 
the door, they thus exchanged thoughts 
in a sotto voice which, in the uproar that 
prevailed, was completely inaudiblo to 
any but themselves. 

‘ Have you aver seed him since then ?’ 
was the question propounded by the 
shorter of the two. 

‘Faith! and only onee, and then I 
drawed a trigger on him from behind the 
bush, Patrick, but a lump of a gal corn'd 
out and stood in the way, or I’d kilt him 
at wunst ; but there was no use of get- 
ting up a yell from the gal that wud have 
brought all the payple in the house about 
my ears.’ 

‘ An’ I blieve you are right, J amie, 
for them Vigilance Committees is kaping 
a bright lookout, now, for the like o’that ; 
and I seed one of ’em up in the Boome- 
rang jist when I was cooming down — , 

‘ Ay, faith, Patrick, and it’s on account 
of Montgomery that they’re shying 
around this way, I’m thinking; but they ' 


will look a great while before they — , 

‘ Ah ! hu^ jist now ! don’t name it, 
for yees don't know what ears is open, 
if you was only to spake of the sand 
hils — ’ 

‘ Hush, noo, Patrick ! would ye be 
after revaling it all, and we sworn on the 
howly Vangellers too V- 

‘But as for the Monteagle there, 
Jamie, there must soomething be done, 
for Montgomery swears he’ll have his 
life, for the taking the safe from him, the 
bloody robber ! 

‘ Faith, boy, make yourself parfectly 
easy, then, for there’s another way to 
kill a cat besides the putting of a slug 
into her countenance, sure,’ and Jamie 
winked sagaciously. ‘You‘11 know then 
that Mister Blodget is going to under- 
take for him.’ 

‘ Och, thin, don’t you belave the bit of 
it — one of these gintlemen wdll never 
shoot another. Wolf won’t ate wolf’ 

‘ Niver fear that, boy. It’s not the 
shooting I’m com'ng at ; but Mr. Blod- 
get is one of ourself, the same as you 
and I, only it is in a more dacenter way, 
and did’nt he promise to get him into 
wosser trouble up at the Bella Union’ — ^ 

* Arrah, but when will he cotch him 
there, think you, and Mantgomery all 
the time perishing, the poor boy, for 
want of his revinge ! And the loss of the 
safe too that weighs heavy upon his 
sperrits like a leaden sinker all the time 
— Och, the bloody robber !’ 

‘ Och I the murtberer,’ cried the oth- 
er, ‘ and did’nt I see the pistol in-his 
hand when he stood up in the barge, and 
in a minnit Montgomery would have 
been come to his nat’ril end by foul 
means, but I jist chucked him under the 
ear a bit and he lighted down in the bot- 
tom of the boat like a breaker full of 
water.’ 

‘Bad luck to the likes of him, Jamie, 


22 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


the UDSpakable murtherin^ scoundrel ! 
It’s the like of him that spoils the coun- 
thry iiitirely, and a poor man like you 
and me is scragged for trying to get a 
dacent living in our own way.’ 

‘ Ooh, botheration ! don’t spake to me 
Patrick, for I’m as mad as my skin can 
hould now, when I think that I didn’t 
put the could lead into his bowels, but 
it was ali on account of the slip of a gal 
that would have given the ala-r-m if I 
had shot him, jist.’ 

'•You shot him once, Jamie, and if — 

‘ Ah, boy, if I had took a fair aim in 
the boat, but my head was lower than 
m}^ heels, as I was tumbling over like a 
duck wid one wing, and the ball jist 
touched him in the ribs, like — but no 
matter, Patrick, Montgomery will come 
to his revinge through Master Blodget 
who pretends to he a gentleman like 
hisself, though he’s one of us sacret like, 
for the benefit of the society, jist.’ 

Here the two amiable interlocutors 
'Were interrupted by a squabble that had 
grown up between the long boat steerer 
and , some Chilian new comers whom he 
had desired to ‘ keep it up,’ and not sat- 
ished with applying ‘ moral suasion ’ to 
the case, he had taken the liberty to 
drag one or two of them into the middle 
of tke floor by their long ear locks. Not 
earing to dance on compulsion, they 
struck long-legs with their fists, and he 
.gave them battle. He kept them at a 
distance a few moments with his long 
arms, but they made up for this by draw- 
ing their coc/iillars. Brandishing their 
knives they rushed upon him with great 
fury. The other whalemen interfered in 
behalf of their shipmate, while all the 
cholars present took sides with their 
countrymen The battle threatened to 
be serious, and blood had already begun 
to flow, when the door opened and a 


stout, broad-shouldered man entered the 
apartment. 

‘ Charley, is that you? shouted tbe 
master of the bouse. 

‘ Yes, what is tbe muss?’ cried the 
new-comer, whom the reader will recog- 
nize as the hero of the fire who took the 
ladder on his shoulders — ‘ Hullo f here F 
knives out ! daggers drawn ! Down, you 
rascals!’ 

Charley then seized two of the most 
forward of the combatants in his Her- 
culean grasp, and hurled them against 
the wall, while the rest, recognizing the 
famous engineer, fell back, breathing 
heavily and eyeing their adversaries with 
murderous spite. 

Patrick and Jamie, who had thus far 
taken no part in the affray, felt them- 
selves aggrieved by the presence of an 
official whom they had no particular 
reasons for admiring, and whose presence 
had more than once been a check upon 
their professional labors. They first be- 
gan to grumble together in a low voice, 
and finding that they could do this with 
impunity, they felt emboldened to pro- 
ceed still farther. 

^ The boys has got to be very civil in 
these times,’ said Patrick. 

^ Oh I it was nothing hut a little spree 
like, they was having — no harm at all, 
at all, in a free country, just for a lark 
like,’ returned Jamie carelessly. 

‘ But the laws is very strict for all 
that,’ said Patrick, nodding graciously. 

‘ Oh, murder, yes,’ returned Jamie, ‘its 
English laws they are like more than 
like what it used to be, before their’ ^ 

‘ You mane the Vigilance Committee, 
Jamie ; oh I had luck to ’em, they is no 
lawful powers any how. There’s niver 
been any good in the place since they 
began to meddle with the payple.’ 


OF SAlSr FRANCISCO. 


23 


Sevenil of the company drew near the 
two Irishmen and seemed to be interes- 
ted in their discourse, while Charley, in 
conversation with the keeper of the den, 
eyed them at a distance. 

In the mean time, the two orators, be- 
lieving they were at the head of a con- 
siderable party, got on their feet, and 
began to swagger about the hall and 
swing their fists in close proximity to 
such persons present as they supposed to 
be unfavorable to their views. Jamie 
was particularly violent until ho hapen- 
cd to graze the shoulder of Charley 
who, shooting out a fist that would have 
startled an ox, struck the big Irishman 
under the ear and felled him to the 
floor. 

What would have been the result of 
this demonstration, if the door had not 
opened at the moment, we cannot say, 
but all- eyes were turned upon the indi- 
vidual who now made his appearance. 
This was a man of youthful appearance, 
some thirty-five years of age, rather tall 
and well made, with red whiskers and 
moustaches and a very good set of teeth. 
He was a little pock-marked though not 
enough to injure his chance with the la- 
dies, and his manner was both brisk and 
ostentatious. He was dressed in the 
extreme of fashion, with a profusion of 
rings on his fingers, and his. entrance fil- 
led the dingy apartment with the scent 
of musk. — Taking out a blue silk hand- 
kerchief with which he made as if he 
would have wiped his face, and which he 
then flourished about the room a mo- 
ment, he thrust out a leg as if to exhibit 
a boot of patent leather, and planting 
his heel jauntily on the floor, he put the 
question — 

‘ Well, boys, has Monteagle called here 
for me, to-night?’ 

Without waiting for an answer he 


clapped his hands familiarly on the 
shoulder of Charley, saying — ‘ How 
about that prisoner of yours ? all safe, 
eh V 

‘Montgomery, do you mean?’ asked 
Charley in his deep base voice. 

‘ Ah! that his name I believe. 
He’ll. be tricod up, I take it — scragged, 
as the Botany boys call it. Ha 1 ha ! ha !’ 

‘You must have heard that he has es- 
caped, Mr. Blodget V 

‘ Escaped ! Ah I’ cried Blodget, with 
a start of real or protended surprise — 
‘the devil! Got loose, eh? No man is 
safe while such fellows are abroad,’ and 
he placed his hand on the guard of his 
gold watch — ‘but how did it happen, 
Charley ? Come, boy, how did he get 
away, the villian V 

‘ If you haven’t heard ’ returned Char- 
ley, looking circumspectly at his inter- 
rogator, ‘ I’ll enlighten you on that sub- 
ject.’ 

‘ Do, do, I’m Ml impatience.’ 

‘So I per-ceive, announced the Engi- 
neer. ‘ You must know that Montgom- 
0 y, the thief, was placed in the room of 
the Vigilance Committee, and Peter was 
set over him as a guard : that is, the door 
was locked and Peter was on the out- 
side.’ 

‘Yes, yes, I understand ; and so he 
jumped out the window.’ 

‘ No. not that exactly, for the windows 
were barred and fastened ; but he made 
a hole through the plastering above, and 
getting on a table and some other lum- 
ber he climbed up into the room above 
and so be got clear.’ 

‘ Oh ! the villian I’ roared Blodget, at 
the same time rubbing his bands very 
unlike a man who was indignant at the 
escape of a felon. 

Charley observed the strange inconsis- 
tency of Blodget’s conduct, and when, a 
moment affcerw’ards, Monteagle thrust his 


24 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


head into the open window and bailed 
JBlodget by name, the Engineer cast a 
rapid glance first at the latter ajid then 
at the former while a cloud came over 
his brow as if he was sorry to see the 
youth in such company. 

With an almost imperceptible wink 
to the two Irishmen, Jamie and Patrick, 
the gay young man rushed out the door 
and confronted ‘ his friend Monteagle.’ — 
‘ Upon my word you look vastly improv- 
ed,’ said Rlodget as he drew Monteagle 
towards Kearney street, and pressed his 
arm cordially. ‘ I was afraid it was all 
day w'th you, one while, and I can as- 
sure you that Mr. Yandewater was deep- 
ly concerned about you That man 
holds you in high esteem, Monteagle; you 
may depend upon that. He fairly lost 
flesh when you were considered dubious.’ 

‘ I believe, sir, that my employers 
place entire confidence in me,’ returned 
Monteagle, ^ and that is all that I expect 
of them. But, pray, where are you 
bound to-night After my long confine- 
ment, I should like to see a little pleas- 
ure. I feel a great inclination to wander 
on the sea shore, or go on a little boating 
excursion.’ 

^ Done, sir. I will go with you on 
Sunday, or whenever you please ; but, 
for the present, suppose we just drop in 
here at the Belle Union and see some of 
these enterprising gents lose a few slugs, 
and the wry faces that they make.’ 

‘ I’ve heard sad stories of that place,’ 
returned the youth, but suffering himself 
to be led in the direction of the gambling 
house. ‘I have heard that more money 
has been lost there than ever changed 
hands in the hells of Baden, at the sal- 
oons of the Palais Royal, or at Crock- 
ford’s. I have a strong dislike to every 
species of gambling.’ 

‘ So have I. Thunder and Mars : I 
think it no better than highway robbery,’ 


cried Blodget with a great show of vir* 
tuousindignation — ‘ that is — except you 
know — where for mere amusement one 
takes a cue with a friend. By the bye, 
are you good at shoving a ball, Mont- 
eagle V ‘ Billiards you are speaking of 
Oh, I like that game well enough, for 
exercise. I cannot call myself a profi- 
cient, though I can once in a while put 
something in a pocket.’ 

‘But you don’t believe in putting 
something into your own pocket — ha, ha. 
Nor in taking something out of your 
neighbor’s. Well it is robbery. It 
makes me so mad sometimes to see how 
these things are done : but here we are 
at the Bella ; let’s just in and overlook 
the game. 

They entered a very large apartment 
where all the conveniences and imple- 
ments for gambling were found arrayed 
according to the most approved style. 
Nothing was wanted to render this es- 
tablishment equal to its ‘ illustrious pre- 
decessors’ in the old world and in the 
Atlantic cities. 

Here were refreshments offered to all 
comers free of cost. Wines were freely 
poured out and segars presented, so that 
‘ good old-fashioned hospitality’ was 
never displayed in these degenerate days 
so bountifully^as Monteagle saw it exhi- 
bited at the famous Bella Union. 

A large table devoted to the game of 
Rouge et Noir invited the attention of 
our two friends. A Californian of swart 
countenance and sinister aspect, here 
deals Monte for the benefit of the green- 
horns who throng around the golden 
piles in momentary expectation of seeing 
them flit into their own pockets, but 
though riches have wings, they do not 
fly in that direction. In lieu of that the 
few acres which the ‘Squatteroez’ have 
left them, go rapidly out of their possess 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


25 


sion. Then the Faro players were 
thronging around the table, certain of a 
change of luck next iime^ and verifying 
the poet’s declaration that ‘ man never 
t5, but always to he blest.’ Each saga- 
cious adventurer fancies himself a per- 
fect La Place or Newton in calculation, 
and believes that he has, at last, master- 
ed the complex elaboration of chances, 
and shall eventually ‘ bust the bank.’ 
Unmitigated ass! Even though your 
power of calculation surpassed that of 
Zerah Colburn, you would be sure to 
lose, even admitting that the game was 
fairly played. 

But watch with the eyes of an Argus, 
and think with the profoundity of a 
Fourier, and that placid, smooth-tongued 
arbiter of Fortune, will look you in the 
eyes and cheat you out of every farthing 
you have got. 

On all the tables except the last v/hieh 
we have described, piles of yellow oto. 
like veritable offerings upon these altars 
of Mammon, make the heart of avarice 
ache, ay, and infect those who are not 
very greedy of lucre with a touch of the 
yelloio fever. Cold in- dollars, gold in 
five dollar pieces, gold in ten dollar coins, 
gold in twenty dollar pieces, gold in slugs, 
gold m lumps, gold in bars, gold in dust 
— gold in every and any shape meets 
the dazzeled eyes of visitors, look where 
you will ; and those bland gentlemen 
who ery ‘ Make de game, gentlemens — 
No moe, the game is made,’ and who so 
liberally furnish the sparkling wine gra- 
tis, stand ready to hand over to you any 
or all of those glittering piles as soon as 
you win them/ 

During all this time, bursts of deli- 
cious music float through the apartment, 
the harmonies of Bellini and Mendel- 
sohn contrasting strangely with the 


hoarse oaths of some loser not yet grown 
sufficiently hardened to stifle his emo- 
tions as he thinks of his poor wife and 
little children whom he has robbed of 
their support by his last venture. 

Monteagle looked with a shudder at 
the scene presented to his eyes, as he 
entered this spacious apartment devoted 
to the goddess of Ruin, and glittering 
with gilded baits to serve the purposes 
of those who, in the worst sense of the 
terms might be called ‘ fishers of men.’ 

An impression far from agreeable was 
made upon the mind of the youth when 
he noticed that Blodget who had been 
recommended to his attention by the 
junior liiember of the firm in whose ser- 
vice he was — not only evinced no emo- 
tion at the fearful scenes enacted before 
him, but that he also replied to the famil- 
iar addresses of the practical gamblers 
like one who had long been on terms of 
intimacy with them. But the impression 
gradually wore off under the influence 
of the music, to the soothing effects of 
which Monteagle was peculiarly suscep- 
tible, and a glass of excellent wine tend- 
ered him by an attendant contributed to 
fortify his spirits and prepare him for at 
least, enduring the strange events that 
were taking place around him. 

One very genteel middle-aged man, 
apparently a Mexican, passed by them 
with a smile upon his countenance, on 
his way to the door. Pride was evident- 
ly struggling with despair, for he had 
just lost his all, and that smile sat upon 
his cadaverous features like a sunbeam 
upon a charnel house. Nevertheless, he 
walked erect, and maintained a certain 
air of dignity, till he passed the portal, 
as some men have done while going to 
the scaffold. 

That sight would have been sufficient 


26 


MYSTERIES AND MlSEiUES 


•of itself to have inspired Monteagle with 
a horror of gambling; but he was des- 
tined to see other sights than this. The 
working of the countenances which fell 
under his eye, the sudden flush of hope, 
the blood receding from the features and 
leaving them white as death — all these 
things the youth saw, and inly cursed 
the wretches whose b’and smiles and 
tempting wines were leading on the hard- 
working laborer to deposite the last grain 
of gold dust in their greedy coffers. 

There were some poor gold-diggers, 
who longed for even a more suddea 
shower of wealth than the mines alfor- 
ded them; men from . the- States who, 
while loosing their gettings at faro as 
fast as they won them from the soil, were 
writing home to their wives, that gold 
was hard to get on account of the 
drought — more rain was required. Alas ! 
if it had rained gold slugs, they would 
only have gathered the treasure to dis - 
sipate it all in games of chance. — But 
even of these all were not equally reck- 
less. One unfortunate creature had, by 
long and arduous labor secured about 
five thousand dollars worth of gold dust. 
He had written io his family in the 
State of Vermont, in high spirits, as- 
suring them that be should be at home 
in a short time ; should buy some land 
and stock it, and that their days of pov- 
erty were over. But coming to San 
Francisco in order to embark for borne 
he had been beguiled into the belief that 
he could double his money at the Bella 
Union. He was playing when Montea- 
gle entered, and although ignorant of his 
history, the youth’s attention was, at 
once, drawn to him by the emotion of 
bis manner, and the intense anxiety 
which he betrayed as heap after heap of 
his treasure departed from him. Hav- 


ing lost part of Ills gold, he seemed des- 
perately bent upon winning it back or 
loosing the whole. He bent over the 
cards with bloodshot eyes, he scarcely 
breathed, except when some one spoke to 
him, and then with a short hysteric 
laugh and words half uttered, he replied 
as if not doubting of ultimate success, 
while his manner and tone gave the lie 
to his pretended confidence. But his 
last venture had been made, and with 
eyes fixed and glassy, he watched the 
process which ended by rendering him 
penniless and a beggar. He fell back, 
gasped for breath, and in the next mo- 
ment, he lay upon the floor a corpse ! 

Monteagle flew to the spot, but he 
stood there alone, as nobody seemed to 
think the event worthy of their atten- 
tion. Finally, however, the body was 
removed. But who shall describe the 
patient watching and waiting of that 
poor wife the anxious inquiries of the 
little children when their father’s prom- 
ised coming was delayed week after week, 
and month after months — or the anguish 
of the bereaved family when at length 
they learned the truth, and instead of 
moving to a snug little farm, in the en- 
joyment of a comfortable independence, 
they were carted ofi* to the Alms Hou.-^e 
friendless and despised % 

Blodgett was evidently troubled by 
tln se pr;)ctical illustrations of the evils 
of gambling, which occurred at a very 
unfortunate time for his purposes. He, 
however, contrived to make Monteagle 
swallow several glasses of liquor which 
was not without its effects, and served in 
a great measure to deaden his sensibili- 
ties. The music, too, floated through 
the apartment, like a syren beckoning 
with her white and jewelled hand the 
thoughtless to their doom. 


OF SAN FEANCISCO. 


It was .midnight — Monteagle, reclined 
on a settee, which overlooked the table 
of rouge et noir, and feeling the sooth- 
ing effect of music and wine, said to 
Blodgett— 

‘ After all, Blodgett, there is a certain 
amount of evil in this world, and I do 
^ not know that one can make it less. It 
is like filling up part of a lake — the wa- 
ters only retire to another part.’ 

^ Yes,’ interrupted the other carelessly 
— as he adjusted his cravat — ^ and the 
ministers have been preaching for eigh- 
teen centuries, and what have they ac- 
complished ? They have only changed 
the character of sins, occasionally, while 
the same amount remains. 

^ True,’ said Monteagle, who was' in a 
condition to be pleased with a congenial 
mind — Hhe Puritans, for instance,. were 
too pure to eat mince pies or kiss a child 
on Sunday ; so they made up for that by 
murdering Quakers and witches’ 

‘And what are speculators of all kinds 
but gamblers V continued the tempter ; 
‘forestalling markets, laying up grain, 
and other necessaries of life to increase 
the price and wring the last cent from 
the hard hands of the laboring poor.” 

There was so much truth in all this 
that Monteagle began to entertain a 
higher opinion than ever of his compan- 
ion, without reflecting that the man who 
spoke thus would not scruple to do these 
very thiols himself, and much w^orse. 

‘ It is as you say,’ returned Monteagle 
quite warmly — ‘ your views coincide with 
mine exactly. It is singular, but I had 
supposed you to be a man of less reflec- 
tion and philosophy. I now perceive 
that you are a man of thought a 

‘ Oh ! I have my views as well as oth- 
ers, that’s all You must know that I 
was intended for a minister, and went to 


2r 

Andover. But come, just for amusement 
let’s try our luck a little here. You 
can stop when you please, you know.’ 

The . proposition was rather sudden ; 
Blodget saw the flush that shot into 
Monteagle’s cheek, and quickly added — 
‘ To be a man of the world it is abso- 
lutely necessary to know a little about 
playing, even if you don’t, practice. All 
the natives play, and let me tell you 
that a spirited Margarittu regards a 
young man as a milk-sop who never lost 
or won a slug.’ 

Something struck the mind of Mont- 
eagle at that moment, and he remained 
for a couple of minutes in a brown 
study, and seemed wholly unconscious of 
the presence of Blodget. The latter 
turned his face aside and smiled. It was 
a self-satisfied smile. 

At length said Monteagle, looking up, 
‘ How long have you known Mr. Brown, 
the partner of Yandewater V 

‘ Ob, these dozen years. He and I 
have met here often.’ 

‘ What I does Mr. Brown play ?’ 

‘ He ! Bless yeur soul’ suddenly 

checking himself — ‘he plays the same as 
you and I might, just a little for sport. — 
That’s all: he’s not a heavy player; or, 
I might say it is more for amusement 
than anything else that he occasionally — 
very seldom, though — lays down a slug.’ 

There are two classes of people who 
are quick at detecting villainy, the ac- 
complished rogue and the honest, simple- 
hearted man. The sight of the latter is 
the more clear of the two as far 'as it 
goes, while the former rreasures more 
correctly the extent of the intended de- 
ception. But Monteagle was. at this 
moment, disposed to interpret every 
thing in the most favorable manner, and 
fancied that he saw in Blodget’s hesita- 


28 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


tion a generous endeavor to conceal the 
picadilloes of Mr. Brown, his employer. 
He felt convinced that Blodget knew 
more than he was willing to tell, and 
there rushed upon his recollection sev- 
eral little circumstances of a somewhat 
equivocal character connected with the 
conduct of Mr. Yande water’s partner. 

Just then, a stout, rude, and hairy 
man, nearly as broad as he was long, with 
large goggle eyes, and a low, retreating 
forehead, came swaggering up to Blod- 
get, followed by a large and very savage- 
looking dog. 

‘ Good night — good night — my old 
boy,’ cried he in a rough and loud tone. 
^ Ha ! ha ! glad to see you.’ 

Blodget stared at the fellow as if he 
bad some trouble in recognizing him 

‘ No savez. eh ! No savez !’ cried the 
man. ^ Oh, well, any other time will do. 
I understand — a pigeon there — don’t 
want to be known, ha ! ha ! I’m just from 
Sacramento, old boy. Plenty of dust’ — 

At this moment, the dog, who had 
been smelling about Monteagle, braced 
himself opposite the youth and gave a 
horrible growl, during which he showed 
his fangs. The youth, believing that the 
animal was about to spring upon him, 
drew a small revolver, and prepared to 
defend himself. 

« Eh — youngster 1’ bellowed the brutal 
owner of the dog. ‘ Love me, love my 
dog, you know. Don’t hurt that dog, 
sir.’ 

‘ Certainly not, unless he attempts to 
hurt me,’ returned Monteagle. 

‘ Afraid of a dog, eh ? Ha, ha 1’ 

*No, not afraid of a dog,’ returned 
Monteagle, highly incensed, ‘ for you may 
observe that I don’t act as if I was 
afraid of you, do I ?’ 

‘ Seize him. Boatswain !’ shouted the 


scoundrel, and the dog, nothing loth 
sprang at the young man, and before he 
could place himself on his guard, had 
fastened his teeth in his vest. At the 
same instant, Monteagle, sparing the 
brute, aimed his pistol at the owner and 
snapped the trigger. The ball justgraz- 
ed one of the fat cheeks of the rascal, 
who, thereupon, threw himself upon the 
youth and begun to pummel him with 
his fists. It must be remembered that 
Monteagle had not yet recovered from 
his wound. Nevertheless, he defended 
himself bravely. But Blodget, as soon 
as he saw the conduct of the wretch, 
gave him a blow on the side of his head 
that felled him like an ox. At the same 
time, the dog left Monteagle and seized 
Blodget. Monteagle threw his pistol at 
the dog, and hit him in the side without 
doing him much damage ; but Blodget 
turned quickly and drove a short, sharp 
dagger to the hilt in the animal’s breast. 
That finished the business for the dog. 
But his savage owner was about stabbing 
Blodget in the back with a long, two- 
edged knife when Monteagle gave him a 
sudden push, which sent him reeling to 
the distance of several paces. Blodget 
and his enemy then encountered each 
other face to face, and as both were arm- 
ed with deadly instruments, the issue 
would h ve been bloody had not several 
of the crowd, which had by this time 
clustered around the combatants, plucked 
them asunder. The stout man swore 
and threatened vengeance, and as he 
struggled hard to get away from .those 
who held him, he was finally thrust out 
of doors with some violence. He was 
heard, for some time, prowling outside 
and threatening all manner of vengeance 
against Monteagle and Blodget, especial- 
ly the latter whom he charged with all 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


29 


manner of crimes, and who, he said, 
would long since have been hanged if 
half his offences were known to the pub- 
lic. 

All this passed for tho ravings of baf- 
fled rage ; and although it seemed to ex- 
cite anger of Blodget, nobody else seem- 
ed to deem it worthy of the least notice. 

The gallant manner in which Blodget 
had espoused his cause, completely won 
the confidence of Monteagle, and when 
he said to the youth, ‘ Come, now that 
rascal of a Sintown has been turned out, 
we will just amuse ourselves here, if you 
have no objection.’ 

‘ Sintown, is his name? it seems to me 
that I have heard that name. Was he 
not once arrested for robbing a Mexican?’ 

‘ Something of that sort, I believe,’ re- 
turned Blodget, glancing stealthily at 
the youth, ‘ but there was no proof of 
his guilt.’ 

‘Proof — there is proof enough in the 
scoundrel’s eye and, indeed, in all the 
rest of his features, to hang a dozen 
men. 

Blodget smiled pensively and drew 
Monteagle to the table. After playing 
a little while, Monteagle lost a couple of 
slugs, when Blodget took his arm and 
said, ‘ Come, my good fellow, the luck 
goes against you to-night. You must 
wait till Madame Fortune, who, accord- 
ing to Bonaparte, always favors the 
young, is in a better mood.’ 

Monteagle had already become fascin- 
ated by the game, but he did not care to 
evince greater devotion to the gambling 
table than his companion ; therefore he 
announced his readiness to depart. 

They had scarcely gone a dozen paces 
from the door, when a man stepped 
lightly up to Blodget. and clapping his 


hand on his shoulder, said, ‘ You are my 
prisoner, sir.’ 

Monteagle started ; but Blodget very 
coolly turned his face towards the man 
and let the segar-smoke stream from his 
mouth directly into the eyes of the offi- 
cer. 

‘You will go with me,’ cried the offi- 
cer angrily. 

‘Will I? In — deed. Something of a 
prophet’ too ’ 

At this the officer began to tug at the 
coat-collar of his prisoner. 

* Now, Oates, aint you ashamed of 
yourself?’ asked Blodget, loosening the 
hand of the other from his collar. 

‘ Why should I be ashamed ?’ asked 
Oates, looking about him, as if to sum- 
mon aid. 

‘ Simply, to impose upon my good na- 
ture in this way. Don’t you know that 
with one blow of my fist I could send 
you reeling, to say nothing of my friend 
here.’ 

‘Your friend. What? You threaten 
me with a rescue, young man ?’ to Mont- 
eagle. 

‘ I have said nothing,’ epidied the 
youth. 

‘ But I don’t like your looks, sir, said 
the officer, trying to put himself in a 
towering passion. 

‘ Bah !’ cried Monteagle, * Come along, 
Blodget, before you frighten this poor 
gentleman to death. You see that ne is 
ready to drop with fear now.’ 

‘ Very well. This is pretty conduct — 
pretty talk to a police officer,’ was the 
reply of Oates, ‘ but I’ll Teport you to 
your betters. I know you both and I’ll 
report you.’ . 

‘ Take something along with you first, 
or you’ll have nothing to tel],’ cried 
Blodget, seizing the official by the back 
of the neck, as he was about to make a 


30 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


hasty retreat, and giving him three or 
four vigorous kicks. 

‘ Murder ! help !’ cried the police offi- 
cer. ‘ Oh, don’t murder me, and i’ll tell 
you all about it. It was Sintown who 
made the complaint. He said that you 
was ’ 

Before he could finish the sentence, 
which, for reasons of his own, Blodget did 
not care to hear at that moment, he was 
thrust into the middle of the street, and 
having picked himself up, the valorous 
officer ran around the first corner as if a 
legion of imps were at his heels. 

‘Now,’ said Blodget to Monteagle, as 
they resumed their walk, ‘ if the fellow 
had showed any pluck, I would have 
given him enough to keep him drnnk for 
a week, in order to have the appearance 
of buying myself off. As it is, he feels so 
much disappointment at haying received 
‘more kicks than coppers’ that he will go 
home to his masters with a horrible 
story of an attempt at assassination, of 
being attacked by forty thieves at once, 
and the whole town will be at our heels 
in less than ten minutes. Therefore, 
here we part. Do you drop in at your 
friend’s in Montgomery-street, which is 
but a few steps from this spot, while I 
will shift for myself as I best may.’ 

The wisdom of this proposal was evi- 
dent to Monteagle, who walked straight 
to a house where he had sometimes 
lodged when in town, and gaining an en- 
trance after some little trouble, he felt 
himself safe from pursuit. 

Meanwhile Blodget, directing his steps 
towards the sand hills, was very soon out 
of sight. 

Shortly after the town was in an up- 
roar. The quick tramp of feet was 
heard in the streets, cries and shouts re- 
sounded through the air, and many peo- 


ple threw up their windows to see what 
was the matter. Finally, nobody could 
get at the secret ; the noise died away, 
and San Francisco lay silent and dark on 
^ the shores of its glorious Bay. 


CHAPTER IV. 

The Footsteps of the Tempter^ 

He stood in the Plaza, Lorenzo Mont- 
eagle, head clerk to the house of Yan- 
dewater & Brown. Down into the 
sparkling waters of the Western main, 
the king of day was slowly sinking, like 
the glorious Constantine submitting to 
Christian baptism at the moment he was 
bidding the world adieu. Monteagle 
surveyed the throng that was passing 
hither and thither on the different streets 
bordering the neglected public square on 
which he stood. They were all person- 
able, able-bodied men, who walked and 
spoke as if there w^as no enterprise of 
which they were not capable, no adven- 
ture too daring for their powers. The 
absence of children and the scarcity of 
women gives a singular aspect to the 
city of San Francisco, and this was real- 
ized by Monteagle, as he now stood gaz- 
ing upon the hardy representatives of 
every country on the globe, as they 
moved before him on the great public 
square of the city. 

As the evening shades began to gath- 
er around the black rigging of the ves- 
sels in the bay, and gloom upon the dis- 
tant waters, the youth looked about him 
as if seeking for some individual whom 
he expected to meet on that spot. A 
man passed near him, nearer in the 
opinion of Monteagle than there was 
any occasion for. He grazed the youth’s 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


31 


elbow as he went by, and appeared to do 
it on purpose. 

Monteagle turned to look at the man, 
and the latter turning also, clapped his 
hands on his hips, and with a swagger- 
ing air, looked the former saucily in the 
face. Monteagle thought he had seen 
the fellow before ; he was dressed much 
as an ordinary laborer, large in size, with 
big coarse features that glowed with the 
effect of frequent potations. 

Monteagle was about to • turn away 
from the man in disgust, when he said — 
‘ I think yees will know me when yees 
sees me again.’ 

‘ Why so ?’ 

‘ Bekase yees trying to look off the 
countenance of me, I believe.’ 

‘ I shall look where I please, and as 
long as I please,’ returned Monteagle. 

‘ That’s unfortunit agin,’ said the 
Irishman, ‘ for yees will see nothing but 
a jintleman, and that’s what yees not 
used to seeing, inside of the looking- 
glass.’ 

‘ What is the object of these insults, 
you scoundrel V cried Monteagle, still in 
the belief that he had fallen in with the 
fellow before, but where he could not re- 
collect. 

‘ Oh — no object at all, at all. But if I 
is a scoundrel, there’s more than one on 
the Plaza jist, and he’s not beyond the 
raitch of my fist, nythur.’ 

This was rather too much for Mont- 
eagle’s patience, and accordingly he rush- 
ed upon the intruder and saluted him 
with a violent blow in the face. The 
Irishman staggered backwards a few feet 
and then recovering himself approached 
the youth in a boiling rage. As they 
met and exchanged blows, the people 
came crowding to the spot, apparently 
bent only upon seeing the fight, as no 


one attempted to interfere. Monteagle 
was a pupil of Frank Wheeler’s and the 
science he had acquired from the teach- 
ings of that accomplished gymnast en- 
abled him to bother his bulky antagonist 
a good deal. This rendered the latter 
exceedingly angry, and a cry was raised 
by the by-standers, as they saw a Span- 
ish knife in the hand of the Irishman, 
which he had dexterously drawn from 
some part of his dress, and with which 
he rushed upon the youth with the evi- 
dent design of finishing him and the bat- 
tle together. At that moment, and just 
as the youth had 'caught a glimpse of 
the steel flashing before his eyes, a pow- 
erful hand was laid upon the shoulder of 
the Irishman, and he was drawn violent- 
ly backwards. Some of the crowd began 
to murmur, but the Irishman looked in- 
to the countenance of the intruder, and 
both he and Monteagle pronounced the 
word ‘ B lodge t !’ 

‘ How now, sir. What are you doing 
with that knife V cried Blodget in a pe- 
remptory tone. 

‘ You see it’s the thafe himself, the 
bloody robber !’ said the Irishman, pas- 
sionately, though evidently cowering un- 
der the gaze of Blodget. 

‘ Who told you he was a thief? Be- 
gone, sir !’ cried Blodget, ‘ Mr. Monteagle, 
I find you in bad company. Is that an 
acquaintance of yours ?’ continued Blod- 
get, with a gay laugh, as he turned to our 
youth, and pointed at the retreating 
form of the Irishman. 

‘Not of miney exactly, said the youth 
placing considerable emphasis on the 
word. 

‘ Oh — yes — a-hem. I have known the 
rascal some. two or three months. We 
had his services in cleaning out a cellar 
and on several other occasions. Devil 


32 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


take the fellow — did he hurt you much?’ 

‘ Better ask if I hurt him^ returned 
the youth, ‘ for I think he would have 
carried away a piece of maleable metal 
with him, but for your opportune deliv- 
erance'.’ 

‘ If he had not been too quick for you 
— he’s dexterous in the use of the 
knife.’ 

‘ Is he, indeed ?’ 

‘You wonder how I found out that 
fact. I have heard of his encounters 
with the natives. His name is James, 
commonly called Jamie, and there are 
many stories extant as to his prowess.’ 

‘ Strange he should have taken so 
much pains to insult me,’ said Mont- 
eagle. 

‘ He seemed to have something against 
you,’ answered Blodget. ‘Cannot you 
remember of ever seeing him before ?’ 

Blodget watched the countenance of 
Monteagle narrowly, as the youth replied, 

‘ I have some faint recollection of the 
fellow’s face. His nose, that seems to 
have been knocked out of its proper 
shape, struck me like an old acquaint- 
ance, but where, and under what circum- 
stances I have seen it before, I am un- 
able to determine. But let him go. You 
and me are met now. for another pur- 
pose.’ 

‘ Let us walk along towards Dupont 
street,’ said the other, musing. 

‘Well, on then. But what engages 
your thoughts at this moment ?’ 

‘ As for that, Monteagle, what would 
you give to know ?’ 

‘ It’s not very important. I’ll be sworn. 
Some love affair doubtless.’ 

‘ You are a wizard,’ replied Blodget. 
‘It is a love affair, but one that inter- 
ests you much more than me.’ 


‘ Interest me'P said the youth, much 
surprised. 

‘ It is a great secret, sir,’ and Blodget 
squeezed the arm of his companion. 

‘ If it is a secret you are bound to 
keep it close. Is it not so ?’ 

‘ Not exactly. But come into this 
shantee with me, and I will explain mat- 
ters to your full satisfaction.’ . 

Monteagle followed his friend into the 
wine shop, nothing loth ; for though he 
assumed an indifferent air, he could not 
feel altogether uninterested in an affair 
of this kind. Besides, like all young 
men on such occasions, his curiosity was 
powerfully excited. 

Blodget sat down in one corner and 
beckoned to the host to set on a bottle 
of champagne. He then pressed Mont- 
eagle to drink who, at first, refused, but 
being in haste to hear the news, he final- 
ly tossed off a glass in order to hurry on 
the recital which Blodget had in store 
for him. 

‘ It is a strange story,’ said Blodget, 
smacking his lips — ‘ good wine’ 

‘ But this queer business — the love 
story — some Mexican squaw, I suppose, 
has ’ 

‘Np — no. You are a lucky dog, 
Monteagle.’ 

‘ Very likely.’ 

Here Blodget poured out another glass' 
and nodded to his companion — ‘Take 
another, and then to business.’ ' 

Monteagle drank to save time, and 
said ; ‘ go on with this wonderful story.’ 

‘ Well,’ said the other, ‘ I think your 
chance is good. The firm hold you in 
high estimation ’ 

‘ Fudge ! no more of that ’ 

‘ But I must tell the story in my own 
way. I say that you are a lucky dog. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


83 


M«nteagle. Come, one more glass and 
then to business.’ 

Monteagle drank, and motioned impa- 
tiently to Blodget. 

‘ My friend, if you work your cards 
right, there is a fortune in reserve for 
you.’ 

A thought 'struck Monteagle, and for a 
moment he was agitated. He drank to 
hide his emotion. 

‘ Good wine, is it not, Monteagle V 

‘ Yes, indeed, but we are coming to the 
end of the bottle before we get to the be- 
ginning of the story.’ 

‘ Oh, but I’ve told you the most im- 
portant part — that is the fortune. Now 
with regard to the young lady, she is a 
perfect angel.’ 

‘ Of course — all angels till after mar- 
riage.’ 

• No, but you’ve seen her.’ 

‘ Have I, indeed V 

‘The old man is rich — counts his 
money by tens of thousands. You have 
seen him, too. Landlord, another bot- 
tle.’ 

‘ Ive seen him, too !’ and the youth 
swallowed another glass, for his heart 
throbbed violently. 

‘The girl is beauty personified — ac- 
complished — lovely as a seraph — eyes of 
the— the ’ 

‘ The blackest jet, of course.’ 

‘Well, I’m not so certain of that. — 
But they are ^ 

‘ Oh, deuce take the description, now 
to the point.’ 

‘ Well, Monteagle, she loves you, loves 
you to distraction.’ 

Monteagle started to his feet. 

‘ Sit down, friend of mine, and let us 
finish this bottle.’ 

‘ Certainly. But who told you this? — 


My God ! who told you that she loves 
me ?’ 

‘ Her own eyes ought to Lave told you 
that long ago.’ 

‘ Her own eyes !’ 

‘Yes, ha ! ha ! ha !’ roared Blodget, 

‘ why, man alive, did you never hear of 
the tell-tale eyes which reveal what pas- 
ses in the heart ?’ 

‘ But who told you V 

‘ It is a secret, you know ; you will not 
betray me.’ 

‘ Honor bright, of course.’ 

‘ I’ll trust you. Brown told me.’ 

‘ What Mr. Brown, our partner V 

‘ Yes, indeed.’ 

‘ But how could Mr. Brown know any- 
thing of this affair, eh ! You astonish 
me.’ 

‘Not at all ; easy enough. Vande wa- 
ter told the doctor, and the doctor told 
Brown ; so now I have betrayed all the 
three. You see it is authentic. The 
girl has confessed her love to Vandewa- 
ter himself. 

‘ To Vandewater ?’ 

‘ Yes, why not ?’ 

‘ She must be in earnest, then. She 
loves me beyond a doubt.’ 

‘ She has loved you many months, now 
Monteagle is a chance ’ 

‘ She loved me many months ! But — ^ 

‘ Fact, sir, fact ? She confessed it to 
Vande water, who tried to persuade her to 
conquer her passion.’ 

The youth started to his feet. 

‘ I’m much obliged to him. He try 
to — he interfere in a case of this kind. — 
But that exceeds his authority.’ 

‘ Tut ! tut ! work your cards right and 
the girl is yours, and then Yandewater’s 
fortune, you know ’ 

‘ What have I to do with Vandewa^ 


34 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


te r’s fortune V cried the youth surpris- 
ed. 

‘ What has she to do with his fortune ? 
what is hers is yours, you know, if you 
come together.’ 

Monteagle looked mystified. 

‘ You know,’ continued Plodget, ‘ that 
Julia is ’ 

‘ J iilia V 

‘ Yes, Mr. Vande water’s neice ’ 

* What have you been talking about V 
cried Monteagle. 

‘ She loves you ! Fact ! Don’t stare 
at me so increduously. See, my boy — 
clapping him on the shoulder — ‘ the 
game’s in your own hands if you only 
play your cards right.’ 

Monteagle sank back in his chair look- 
ing listlessly upon his half-emptied glass, 
while Blodget went on for a considera- 
ble time descanting on the merits of Ju- 
lia Yandewater, and the brilliant pros- 
pects that would open opon Monteagle 
if he married her. 

‘No matter,’ said our youth, careless- 
ly. ‘ That doctor must be a regular 
gossip, and deserves to be called out for 
publishing family secrets with which he 
has been entrusted.’ 

Blodget gazed at Monteagle in amaze- 
ment. He wondered that, the young 
man who had been so anxious to hear 
the disclosures which he had to make, 
should seem so little affected at a fact 
which would have occasioned no small 
triumph to himself. But the reader is 
already informed that this marvellous 
secret was no news to Monteagle ; who, 
so far from triumphing in the conquest 
which he had made of Julia’s heart, was 
deeply grieved that he could not return 
her affection. But Monteagle had taken 
more wine than usual, and Blodget seem- 
ed to be perfectly satisfied with that cir- 


cumstance at least. Monteagle followed 
him out mechanically, and suffered him- 
self to be led wherever Blodget might 
choose to convey him. 

CHAPTER Y. 

Our Hero Treads Forbidden Ground — 
The Mansion in Dumont Street, 

They walked but a short distance be- 
fore they reach a splendid house in Du- 
pont street. Monteagle had heard the 
character of this building, but had paid 
but little attention to it. He was now 
in a condition to enter almost any house 
where amusement was to be obtained, 
for in addition to the champagne which 
he had taken, he had experienced no 
small disappointment upon learning the 
whole extent of Blodget’s wonderful se- 
cret, As they entered this elegant man- 
sion it began to grow dark. The inte- 
rior was far more imposing than the out- 
side. They passed through a wide hall 
lighted by an elegant chandelier, which 
hung in golden chains from the ceiling. 
Other furniture betokened abundance 
of wealth. 

Blodget opened a door that led to a 
large apartment, carpeted in the most 
fashionable style — fashionable in a land 
where ostentatious wealth may be deem- 
ed excusable. Rich sideboards, tables, 
chandeliers and ornaments of the most 
elegant form and costly materials here 
greeted Monteagle on every side. 

On a sumptuous sofa of the richest 
Genoese velvet, sat two young ladies, 
whose costly dresses were admirably fit- 
ted to their forms, and so arranged as to 
betray their charms to the most casual 
observer. One of them, to whom Blod- 
get addressed himself on entering, was 
not tall in stature but of exquisite sym- 
metrv. Her complexion, though that of 
a brunette, was so transparent, and the 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


35 


rose on her cheeks was so brilliant, that 
one would scarcely have noticed that she 
was darker than her companion. A pair 
of lustrous large black eyes beamed from 
beneath a profusion of raven tresses, and 
the clearly defined, arched eye-brows ap- 
peared to have been drawn by the pen- 
cil of a skilful painter. The upper moie- 
ty of two well rounded globes was dis- 
played by the low dress, while the little 
foot and beautiful ancle were not covered 
by the long drapery in vogue with the 
daughters of a more northern clime. — 
Whether her mouth was made for speak- 
ing or kissing, might have been a ques- 
tion with naturalists and men of vertu; 
but most men would have decided prac- 
tically in favor of the latter view. It 
was, indeed, a mouth -that spoke elo- 
quently while silent, like one of those sea 
shells which one sometimes finds in the 
Orient, ruddy and of voluptuous form. 

‘Mr. Blodget is come again. Very 
welcome Mr. Blodget,’ said the fair crea- 
ture. ‘ I wait much for see you, and 
never see you no more.’ 

But while addressing Blodget, she 
fixed her speaking eyes on Monteagle 
and surveyed his features and fine form 
with evident admiration. 

The other girl was taller and fairer, 
with a majestic neck, blue eyes, and 
brown hair, the ringlets bursting from 
her head dress and showering over her 
well-turned shoulders. She smiled and 
showed pearls, she walked and exhibited 
grace and voluptuous proportions. She 
spoke and music fell from her lips. 

Monteagle, aided hy the champagne 
that he had drank, made himself agree- 
able very soon — sooner than propriety 
would have required had not his fair 
friends been accustomed to impromptu 
friends and acquaintances. 


The sound of voices and occasional 
laughter in a neighboring apartment 
gave evidence that there were more of 
the fair consolers in the house, and that 
other men, beside Blodget and Montea- 
gle, were regaling their eyes with femi- 
nine loveliness. 

A few moments conversation sufiiced 
to show that the dark eyed girl was' a 
native of South America, while the other 
had been born and brought up in the 
land of Johnny Bull, though her accent 
betrayed that her earlier days had been 
spent in the ‘ North Countrie.’ She 
w^as one of Burns’ beauties, and how so 
fair a flower, who, even now seemed to 
have retained some portion of her mod- 
esty, should ever have found her way to 
a house of this description on the dis- 
tant shores of California, was a problem 
which Monteagle found difficult to solve. 

Throwing himself on a sofa and put- 
ting his arm around her slender waist, 
Moeteagle said — ‘Were not you and I 
acquainted in the old country ?’ 

Although this was merely common 
place nonsense, the girl slightly blushed 
before she replied — ‘ Nae doubt, sir, they 
be all frae Scotland that speaks to me, 
sir.’ 

‘ You ,did not know that I was descen- 
ded from the noble house of ’ 

‘ Douglas V 

‘ No, but of — of’ 

‘ Oh ! the Bruce it must be ’ 

‘ No — stop — the — house of Monteith.’ 

‘ Monteith P cried she, removing her- 
self farther from, and affecting horror at 
the name. 

‘ Yes, that noble ancestry I claim, and 
you shall be my bonny bride, and we will 
return together to Scotia’s shores, ’^and 
live near the Highland cot in \^ich you 
were born and reared.’ 


36 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


* With a Monteith / with a Monteith, 
thiok you V and she stared curiously at 
the youth^ — ‘take off 3^our shoes, sir, 
did I ever think I should ever set ‘my 
twa een upon one of that family ? Tak 
off your boot and let us see if ye have 
not a cloven foot, at least V 

Blodget had sent for wine, which was 
procured at twenty dollars the bottle — 
an excellent article, however ; and now 
conversation, raillery, repartee, aud com- 
pliments flowed freely. The two girls 
were entirely unlike those whom we find 
in houses of resort in the Atlantic cities. 
They had evidently received a good edu- 
cation, more especially the dark-eyed 
one, and their conversation w^as conduct- 
ed in a style more usually heard in a 
fashionable drawing-room than in an es- 
tablishment sacred to Ihe Paphian God- 
dess. 

This way the evening was spent, and 
the hour had become late. Other girls 
of various degrees of beauty were in the 
apartment. Music of a high order — ad- 
ded to the charm of the occasion. The 
men at this house were generally of the 
higher classes, or those who assumed to 
be so ; and the utmost harmony pre- 
vailed. The wines sparkled — wit flew 
from mouth to mouth — and few things 
were said or done which might not have 
passed in the saloons of Mr. Vande water 
himself. 

Blodget had the air of a blase, and 
after having talked a little, in a tone of 
listless indifference, with the Spanish 
girl, he turned to another. At the close 
of the evening, Monteagle found himself 
in conversation with the lively and in- 
telligent Spanish maid, who told him 
that .she came from Santiago, a city of 
Chile, and where, from some words that 
accidentally dropped from her, he was 


made to believe that she had moved in a 
circle differing, in many respects, from 
that with which he now found her. He 
became more . and more interested in 
Maria, as she was called. With all her 
liveliness there was a certain delicacy 
about her which enchanted him ; and as 
she moved about to different parts of the 
room, her rounded form and voluptuous 
limbs could not escape his watchful re- 
gards. His imagination exalted by 
rich wines and fascinated by the beauty 
and the manners of Maria, Monteagle was 
in a condition to overlook the demand of 
prudence, and the whisperings of con- 
science. Blodget certainly exhibited no 
regret at observing this. 

The saloon was full of visitors, and 
young ladies, and some of the latter 
knew the young clerk well by reputation. 
They became much interested in the flir- 
tation that was going forward between 
Maria and Monteagle, and although they 
were too well bred to betray their interest, 
they saw and heeded all that passed be- 
tween them. Some were much surprised, 
and others thought it very natural, while 
some few, no doubt, rejoiced in the op- 
portunity for scandal, which would enable 
them to ‘entertain company,’ by the 
hour or the subject of youthful proclivi- 
ties, and the danger of placing too much 
corifidence in these ‘promising young 
men.’ 

This was a moment of danger for 
Monteagle, and yet hundreds of other 
youths were in the nightly and even dai- 
ly habit of visiting gambling-houses and 
places of debauchery, upon whose con- 
duct no remark was made. The reason 
of this may have occurred to the reader. 
Monteagle was highly esteemed by his 
employers, and an opinion had got about 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


that he was somethicg better than com- : 
moil. All men are said to respect vir- 
tue, and consequently the aberration of 
Monteagle was very comforting to such 
as had previously regarded him with a 
sentiment approaching to envy. We 
may as well say, also, in this place, that 
the love of Julia Yandewater had been 
won as much by the unusual sobriety 
and decorum of Monteagle’s conduct as 
by his personal and iotelljctual endow- 
ments. She regarded him as a very un- 
common young man ; and it may be 
perceived by the importance which Blod- 
get attached to his ‘ secret,^ that Julia 
was regarded as a great prize, and one 
not to be aspired to by every young fel- 
low in San Francisco. Julia Yande- 
water could have commanded the admi- 
ration of any bachelor in California, 
whatever might have been his talents and 
acquirements, with the one exception of 
Lorenzo Monteagle, who, while he re- 
garded her with the affection of a brother, 
had lived under the same roof with the 
young lady long enough to know that he 
could never feel toward her as he ought 
to feel tow^ards the woman whom he 
made his partner for life. But this con- 
clusion had not been formed upon any 
improprieties in the conduct or conversa- 
tion of the young lady. Had Monteagle 
a brother who was enamored of Julia, he 
would have rejoiced to have seen a union 
take place between them : but there was 
the important point — it was necessary to 
be enamored first, for without that he 
believed that respect and friendship 
could not insure a happy marriage. On 
her part Julia loved sincerely, and for 
nothing more than for the virtuous and 
circumspect deportment of Monteagle. 

I have said that our youth had been 
fascinated with Maria. He was in high 


n 

spirits ; he was pleased with the idea of 
having gained so pretty and genteel a 
mistress, for slie bad in the tenderest 
manner, consented tp be exclusively his 
as long as he might feel disposed to keep 
her, Patting him on his bump of benev- 
olence with her taper finger, she had said, 

‘ Pretty American lad, I love you much. 
I love your face. I love your figure, and 
your voice. I shall be much please with 
you to-day and to morrow all the same. 
Oh, you is one pretty. Gome up to my 
room and shall see how I love you, 
mine friend.’ 

Monteagle obeyed this tender request. 
From such lips and enforced with a voice 
ringing like a silver- bell, it was impossi- 
ble for him to disobey the command. 
Blodget saw and heard it all ; and when 
the enamored couple shut the door be- 
hind them, he placed his jewelled finger 
on one side of his nose, and winked to the 
Scottish-girl who appeared to fully un- 
derstand it. 

For the last half hour that Monteagle 
had remained in the saloon, he had over- 
heard a lively conversation between 
three pretty French girls, carried on in 
their vernacular, which had for its object 
a lady apparently from Lima, as she was 
dressed in their peculiar attire. Her 
dress was dark, fitted to the form in a 
peculiar manner, so as to show the swell 
of the hips, without being wide and flow- 
ing like the dress of our ladies. Her form 
was entirely hidden, except that a small 
aperture permitted her to look abroad 
with one eye. This dress is singular, 
and yet it is worn by all fashionable la- 
dies in certain parts of South America. 

This lady had spoken little since her 
entrance, while she seemed to be an at- 
tentive observer of all that passed. The 
French girls were wondering who she 


38 


MYSTERIES AKD MISERIES 


•was. Their observations were piquant 
and full of wit; and as Monteagle was 
a perfect master of the French language, 
he was not a little entertained bj their 
funny remarks. To him, however, the 
presence of the strange lady was a mat 
ter of very little interest. As her face 
was invisible, she might be a perfect 
fright for all that he knew to the contra- 
ry, and in the few half-understood words 
that fell from her lips, he discovered no 
more than the most common-place obser- 
vations He did, however, observe that 
the mistress of the establishment — a 
very beautiful and accomplished woman 
herself — treated the incognito with marks 
of the highest respect. 

Scarcely had Monteagle placed his 
foot on the stairs to follow Maria to an 
upper apartment, when the unknown ap- 
peared in the hall, and having thrust a 
billet into the hand of the girl, turned 
and left the house immediately. 

Maria laughed slightly. 

‘ What is this T said she, in her broken 
English. ‘ One letter to read ! Oh ! 
very good ; I shall read you a letter, 
mine friend. So much the better. T shall 
see.’ 

Pausing a moment, Maria opened the 
note, and read it by the light of the 
chandelier. The paper dropped from 
her hand, and she stood a moment as if 
transfixed with astonishment. 

‘She! Oh I She I the holy and de- 
voted one !’ cried Mj?ria, at last, clasping 

her hands. ‘ She, here she come to 

this place and all for me — for me — ’ 

‘Come, come,’ cried the impatient 
youth. • Come, my beautiful one, and 
let us enjoy ’ 

‘ Enjoy nothing. Not to-night; some 
other time. I can do nothing to-night. 
-So she has remembered me. She has not 


forgotten those days of innocence. Ah, 
me — they are gonojiow F 

These words were spoken in Spanish ; 
but Monteagle found no difficulty in un- 
derstandirg them, and they partially re- 
stored him to a sense of his present plight. 
But who was this ‘holy and devoted 
one?’ Some nun, no doubt, who had 
stepped between him and his enjoyments. 

Monteagle. whose passions were much 
excited, stood lo<lking at the fine form 
and swelling graces of the Spanish girl ; 
her tapering limbs, her little feet, her 
large dark eyes, and lovely mouth. 

‘ Surely,’ said he, ‘ you will not be so 
unkind ’ 

‘ Hush !’ cried Maria, clapping her 
hand on his mouth. ‘ I am nothing this 
evening. Her hand has written this, 
and 1 cannot see you to-night,’ and here 
the girl sat down upon the stairs, and 
fell into a deep reverie. 

‘ What shall I do V thought Montea- 
gle, ‘ If I speak to another girl, every eye 
will be upon me ; all sorts of surmises. 
No, no, I have it. I will consult Blod- 
get.’ 

He then slipped a slug into the hand 
of Maria, who seemed to be almost un- 
. conscious of the act, and stepping to the 
door of the saloon, he' opened it, and 
called to his companion. 

Blodget was lazily conversing with the 
mistress of the house upon some topic 
of general interest, and though surround- 
ed on all sides by the most fascinating 
beauties of almost every civilized country 
— who threw out their lures to entrap 
him, he appeared as unconscious as 
pair of tongs in a china shop. When he 
heard Monteagle pronounce his name, 
he looked up surprised : he fairly started, 
and seizing his hat, quickly came out to 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


39 


him. They passed into the street to- 
gether. 

* What have you done with Maria V 
said Blodget. 

^ She has received a note from some- 
body, and has retired alone to ponder 
upon its contents,’ answered the youth. 

‘ Oh ! I know — I think, at least, that 
the lady who followed you out — the lady 
in the mask — ha I ha ! ha ! I think that 
she must have brought the note. But 
did she not make you acquainted with 
its contents V 

‘No. But whatever its contents were, 
they made a deep impression upon her.’ 

‘ Ah,’ exclaimed Blodget, stopping as 
if to think. ‘ I have heard something 
of this. I think I understand something 
of it. You must know that Maria re- 
ceived her education at a convent in 
Santiago, about a hundred miles from 
Valparaiso, an old-fashioned city where 
religion flourishes. This is a religieuse 
who came to the house enveloped in the 
costume of that city ; and I think I have 
learned that Maria was the bosom friend 
of a young lady of fiije promise, and very 
devout habits, before she took to the 
road.^ 

‘ The road V 

‘ Yes that broad road that we read of.’ 

‘ These are singular girls,’ said Mont- 
eagle. ‘ Instead of mere hacknied mer- 
cenaries they seem to be women of sen- 
timent and feeling.’ 

‘ Well, I can show you a few such’ 

A heavy sigh breathed by some person 
near them caused Montea gle to turn 
around. 

The lady incognito was near them, 
and the sigh must have come from her ; 
but whether it had any relation to their 
conversation or not they were unable to 
determine. She did not look towards 


them, as she passed. Perhaps that the 
sigh had some connection with the un- 
fortunate Maria, Still as her dark form 
receded from view, Monteagle could not 
but remember that it was immediately 
after Blodget’s proposition to show him 
other females, when this sigh was breath- 
ed. 


CHAPTER VI. 

The Ruined Wife — The Banker's 
Marriage. 

They walked forward amid the dark- 
ness till they came to a house in Sacra- 
mento street, where instead of the sound 
of merry voices which they had expected, 
their ears were saluted by the most vio- 
lent oaths and denunciations. 

■ * How is this V said Monteagle, ‘ is it a 
ring fight to which you are convening 
me V 

‘ You may well ask that,’ replied Blod- 
get, stopping to listen [ these are un- 
usual sounds to' proceed from this house. 
Here seems to be more of Mars than 
Venus.’ 

As they came to the door it was vio- 
lently thrown open, and several females 
ran screaming into the street. 

‘ Go in there !’ cried one of the girls, 
recognizing Blodget ; ‘for God’s sake go 
in, or there will be murder done.’ 

Blodget and Monteagle hastened to 
the apartment from whieh the noise pro- 
ceeded, and there they beheld a table 
overturned and China ware scattered 
about the floor, while a stout, middle- 
aged man, with every appearance of a 
gentleman, lay on the floor, and another, 
equally respectable in appearance, was 


40 


MYSTERIES AKD MISERIES 


kneeling on bis brf'ast, with a revolver in 
his hand, and aimed at the throat of the 
prostrate man. 

‘ What ! gentlemen !' exclaimed Mont- 
eagle, ‘ forbear !’ and he was proceeding 
to the relief of the fallen man when 
Blodget caught him by the arm, and 
whispered, ‘ Let them alone. It is all 
right. I know them both !’ 

‘You know them?’ cried Monteagle, 
struggling to throw off his friend’s firm 
grasp, ‘ but is that any reason that they 
should murder each other V 

‘ That fellow seduced his wife !’ cried 
Blodget. 

‘ Promise, villain ! promise 1’ roared 
the man with a pistol. ‘ Promise, or I 
finish you on the spot.’ 

‘ Help, I say,’ cried the undermost 
man, frothing with rage und pale with 
terror — ‘ Release me from this madman.’ 

‘ Madman !’ cried he with the pistol. 
Is it mad that I am when I claim that 
you shall marry the woman whom you 
have stolen away from home and happi- 
ness. Gentlemen, you see here a villain 
— a banker of this city — who bloated 
with pride, and presuming on his wealth, 
seduced my wife and brought her to this 
city. I procured a divorce in such a 
manner that my ruined wife can marry 
again. I followed her and her paramour 
to this city, and here I find him rioting 
in a house of rl fame, while the woman 
that he has blasted — my late wife — 
pines in solitude at home, where she is 
scarcely allowed the necessaries of life. 
Now, you villain, see if these gentlemen, 
will aid you.’ 

‘No,’ said Monteagle. ‘We cannot 
interfere here ; but pray don’t shoot the 
villain in cold blood.” 

‘His life is safe, if he promises to 
marry the woman,’ cried the wronged 


husband ; ‘ Otherwise he dies ! Prom- 
ise !’ and he thrust the muzzle of the 
pistol against the seducer’s forehead. 

‘ Murder — help !’ cried the man, strug- 
gling desperately to regain his feet. 

‘ Promise, rascal, promise to marry 
the woman, and I release you.’ 

Perhaps with the hope of making his 
escape if he consented, the banker at 
length said, ‘ Let me up, and I will mar- 
ry the ’ 

‘ Call no names for she is your wife, 
cried the other, suffering the banker to 
regain his feet, but no sooner was he 
up than he made a rush for the door — 
the outraged husband levelled a pistol at 
his head, and in order to save his life, 
Monteagle and Blodget seized the sedu- 
cer, and in spite of his struggles, held 
him fast. The divorced husband then 
begged our two friends to lead the 
banker forward. Being concerned for 
his life, and thinking their presence ne- 
cessary to his safety, Monteagle and 
Blodget led the man down the street, 
the husband leading the way, pistol in 
hand. In an obscure street, they enter- 
ed a low-roofed building, where they 
found the unfaithful wife attended by a 
clergyman. 

The banker started, as this vision met 
his gaze, and he would fain have retreat- 
ed ; but he was held by his two conduc- 
tors as in a vice. 

‘ Here,’ said the injured husband to 
the seducer — ‘ here is the woman whom 
you are to marry. I have procured a 
divorce from her, and left her free. You 
took her from me — from a good home — 
you have had her as long as it suited 
your convenience, but have now almost 
entirely cast her off in a strange land. — 
You shall marry her.’ 

The clergyman and all the others 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


41 


present said that it was no more than 
justice. Finding there was no other 
way, the banker yielded and married 
the woman whom he had seduced. 

After witnessing the ceremony, and 
receiving the hearty thanks of the late 
husband, Blodget and Monteagle with- 
drew, 

‘ What do you think of this scene V 
said Blodget to Monteagle, as soon as 
they were alone together in the street. 

‘ I think it is a hard case in every view 
of it,’ returned the youth. ‘ The man 
has lost his wife — the seducer has mar- 
ried one whom he cannot love, and the 
new wife will doubtless have a hard 
time of it with the fellow.’ 

‘ The husband was bent on revenge,’ 
said Blodget, and in rivetting the two 
criminals together, I think he has pun- 
ished both. It is not likely the wife 
will ever live to inherit the banker’s 
wealth He will either d®*} li).’ o: kill 
her with unkindness.’ 

^ But shall we not go back to the 
house?’ inquired Monteagle. 

Blodget perceived that the young 
clerk’s feelings had been too highly 
wrought up by the contemplation of fe- 
male beauty to admit of his returning 
peaceably home without first becoming 
better acquainted with one of the inmates 
of the house which they had last visited. 
He w’as not averse to returning to the 
temple of pleasure, and accordingly he 
replied in the affirmative. 

But on returning to the house, they 
found the light out, and the parties re- 
tired for the night, for the dawn of day 
was not far off. 

It was enough for Blodget that he had 
inducted Monteagle into the downward 
path. He did not doubt that, hereafter 
the young man would take rapid strides 


towards the point whither he was so de- 
sirous of directing his steps. 

Monteagle separated from his com- 
panion and returned home, where he was 
soon in the land of dr<eanjs. 

He awoke late in the morning and felt 
a little confused after his night’s career ; 
for while he was not really intoxicated, 
he had been a little merry, and even that 
was a rare thing for Lorenzo Monteagle. 
His employers were not Puritans, and 
consequently they observed nothing pe- 
culiar in his manner or appearance. Mr. 
Brown, however, was very sociable with 
Monteagle on that day, and the latter 
imagined that he knew the cause. He 
supposed that the young man was in a 
fair way to marry J ulia, and accordingly 
the former rose in his estimation. Brown 
was one of those worthies who worship 
the rising sun. He as well as Blodget 
thought that Monteagle was ‘a lucky 
dog.’ Indeed, he would have been glad 
to be in his place. Monteagle saw into 
all this, but did not act as if he perceived 
it. 

In his hours of calm reflection, after 
dinner, Monteagle thought upon the 
events^of the proceeding night, how he 
had twice been prevented from associat- 
ing with one of the seductive young girls 
at the houses of pleasure to which Blod- 
get had conveyed him. In the first in- 
stance, a nun or something of the kind, 
had come to snatch Maria from his arms, 
— at the second house, the affray occur- 
red between the banker and the injured 
husband. But he had also had a singu- 
lar dream during the night, which he 
had scarcely had time to think of during 
business. It now came up vividly to his 
recollection. The details were as follows : 
He seemed to be sitting with Julia Yan- 
dewater, in her father’s garden, in pleas- 


42 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


ant conversation, when suddenly the 
heavens became overcast and the thun- 
der rolled heavily over bis head. Julia 
started up and bestowing upon him a 
contemptuous frown, exclaimed, ‘ I love 
you no longer. I will tell my uncle of 
you and get you discharged from his' ser- 
vice.’ She then abruptly left him, while 
he was much revolted and displeased by 
the revengeful and unladylike look that 
she cast back at him as she retired. Still 
the lightning flashed and the thunder 
rolled, till, immediately after a tremen- 
dous crash, he observed that the man- 
sion of Mr. Yande water was on fire. It 
had been struck by lightning. For a 
time all was confusion in his mind, till he 
seemed to^ be again ascending the ladder 
to rescue a young lady from the flames. 
Again he heard the shouts of the intrepid ; 
firemen below him, and the roaring of 
the flames as he approached the window 
where, as hfe supposed, Julia Yandewa- 
ter was standing. But no sooner bad he 
reached her than she proved to be the 
nun who had given the note to Maria at 
the house of assignation. He seized 
her around the waist, and then the sti- 
fling smoke seemed to smother him. His 
mind was again confused till he found 
himself in a wilderness, fainting with 
heat, and seeking for a refuge from the 
burning sun. . No shade was near, and 
he was about to lie down and surrender 
himself up to death, when Inez Castro^ 
riding on an elephant, came that way, 
attended by a large number of very 
black slaves. On seeing him, Inez im- 
mediately descended to the ground, and 
commanding a huge basin to be brought, 
bathed his temples with a cooling and 
refreshing liquid, which restored all his 
powers and filled him with unspeakable 
pleasure. Soft music floated around him 


the atmosphere was filled with the most 
delightful odors, and he finally sank into 
I a sweet slumber upon the rounded 
! bosom of the beautiful maid. 

^ Such was his dream, and he now pon- 
dered upon it deeply, for it seemed to be 
fraught with meaning, as if it was some- 
thing more than the effects of his night’s 
adventures. 

But the more be reflected, the more 
he became puzzled, for there seemed to be 
no rational interpretation to a dream so 
fraught with contradictions, and split up 
into separate portions, which seemed to 
have no agreement with each other. ‘ It 
is one of those jumbled visions caused 
by excitement and champagne,’ said he 
— late hours caused it ; but I must give 
up late hours and be more steady’ — he 
; paused, for he knew in the secret of his 
heart that he should hail the appearance 
of Blodget with pleasure, and that he 
had more than once looked at the sun 
declining in the West. Once, at least, 
he must solace himself with beauty. 

The hour had nearly arrived for leav- 
ing off all business, and shutting up 
store, when Mr. Brown, who had been 
absent a couple of hours, thrust a note 
into Monteagle’s band. He opened it 
and read — 

‘ Friend M, — Unexpected business will 
prevent me from waiting on you this 
evening, as was agreed upon. To-mor- 
row night I shall be free to attend you. 

Ever yours, Blodget.’ 

The deuce 1’ cried the youth, ‘ then I 
will go alone.’ He paused, and smiled 
as he remembered the good resolution he 
had been on the point of forming when he 
had no doubt of Blodget’s coming. The 
feeling of disappointment which he expe- 
rienced convinced him that it would be no 


OF SAlSr FRANCISCO. 


43 


easy matter to put his good resolution in 
practice. 

He slowly crawled over the hill toward 
the- house of Mr. Vandewater. When 
he sat down to supper with the family, he 
observed that Julia was in much better 
spirits than usual. Instead of regarding 
him with that heavy, mournful look that 
had been habitual to her for some months 
past, he caughFher in glancing covertly 
towards him several times, with spark- 
ling eyes and something like a glow of 
excitement on her cheeks. 

‘ Mr. Brown called this afternoon, I un- 
derstand,’ remarked Vandewater in the 
course of conversation. 

‘ Yes, sir,’ returned his lady ; ‘he made 
himself very agreeable to your hopeful 
young lady here.’ 

‘Now aunt, you are provoking,’ said 
Julia, with an ill-concealed smile of plea- 
sure. I was thinking if he was a jug 
what a fine handle his huge Roman nose 
would make.’ 

Vandewater roared as usual on such 
occasions. Monteagle smiled. A thought, 
however, had instantly struck him. He 
knew that Brown was a great talker, and 
like many great talkers, often said those 
things to Ms listeners which he thought 
would interest them rather than those 
things which were founded in fact. He 
imagined that in the glances which Ju- 
lia had given him, at the supper table, 
there was a look of triumph as well as 
pleasure. Could it be that Brown, know- 
ing Julia’s secret, had made up a story 
about himself— had told her that Mont- 
eagle was truly in |:)ve with her, but on- 
ly played shy for fear of the uncle ? Was 
it not quite posSibie that Brown had 
misunderstood the doctor ; and that he 
believed Vandewater was opposed to the 
match, and had advised his neice to 


conquer her passion on that account, in- 
stead of doing it because her passion was 
hopeless ? 

Nothing seemed more likely to Mont- 
eagle than this, especially as Blodget 
had so understood the matter, and Blod- 
get had received his information from 
Brown. Besides, might not Brown 
have seen Blodget that day, and as the 
youth had become suddenly silent when 
the ‘ great secret’ was told him, had not 
Blodget interpreted this silence as des- 
pair of success and consequently melan- 
choly, and so reported it to Brown ? 

All that evening, Julia was extremely 
lively, and sometimes her aunt regarded 
her with surprise if not disapprobation, 
so piquant were her sallies and so point- 
ed was her ridicule. Monteagle was 
more than. usually grave ; not only from 
his want of sleep on the preceding night, 
but because he thought he had detected 
the source of Julia’s gaiety, and the mis- 
take under which she labored. 

At length, when Monteagle rose to 
retire, J ulia contrived to place herself 
near the^oor, and as he went out, half 
asleep, and feeling very dull, she softly 
whispered the one word ‘ Hope i’ 

Monteagle started as if struck by an 
arrow at this confirmation of his fears. 
The poor girl had mistaken his gravity 
and dullness for that despair which 
Brown had taught her to believe he was 
laboring under, and had ventured to tell 
him that he might hope I 

As Monteagle hurried off to his cham- 
ber, he knew not whether to laugh or 
cry. 

Thero was something very comic in 
this mistake. The blundering Brown, 
with his big. nose, getting hold of his 
story at the wrong end, and hurrying off 
to banter Julia about her conquest was 


44 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


ridiculons enough : but then the unfor- 
tunate girl Tvho had suffered herself to 
he so readily deluded into the belief that 
her love was returned, and undertaking 
to cheer his supposed melancholy by a 
kind word, called forth his sincerest sym- 
pathy. 

In the morning early, Monteagle met 
Julia in the garden. 

‘ You are an early riser, sir,’ said she, 
*as well as myself. I think the morning 
is the best part of the day.’ 

‘ I am of your mind,’ returned Mont- 
eagle, ^ and so are many others, who rise 
early to get their morning bitters.’ 

‘ So I have been told,’ said Julia, with 
a gay laugh. ^ Am I to understand that 
Mr. Monteagle’ 

‘ Oh, no. I am not one of them,’ re- 
plied the youth. ‘ Instead of bitters, I 
fall in with sweets^ it seems.’ 

‘ Yes, the flowers are fragrant,’ said 
Julia, looking about her, and evading 
the compliment with the pleased and 
rather triumphant air of one who, 
felt secure of the affections of him who 
offered it. 

Monteagle observed all this and con 
demned himself for having inadvertently 
helped along the deception ; yet it seem- 
ed too cruel to dash her new-fledged 
hopes to the ground, as he might have 
done by a single word. Candor would 
have dictated an immediate explanation, 
— but the youth gave heed to the more 
tender pleadings of mercy, and even 
said to himself — ‘ Time may cure her 
partiality for me ; and another lover may 
supplant mein her affections; sp I will 
let her rest in happy ignorance. I have 
no prospect of marrying at preiBent, and 
why should I dispel a vision which, al- 
though baseless, pleases the poor, delud- 
ed girl ? 


At the breakfast table, the liveliness 
of J ulia, and her merry laugh, drew the 
attention of Mr. Vande water, who looked 
first at his neice and then at Monteagle, 
as if he supposed an explanation had 
taken place between the young people, 
and that all was as Julia desired it to be. 

On reaching the store, Monteagle was 
surprised to see a crowd of people about 
the door. Officers weie there asking 
questions and noting down the replies. — 
Mr. Brown was flying about among the 
spectators, making himself so very busy 
that the youth almost suspected he had 
lost his wits. 

‘ Oh, Monteagle, is that you ? Where’s 
Mr. Vandewater?’ 

‘ I left him coaversing with Julia in 
the breakfast parlor. 

‘ Ah, yes-— yes — fine girl that !’ cried 
Mr. Brown, tapping the youth jocosely 
on the shoulder. ^ ‘ But do you know 
what’s happened V 

^ Heavens ! No !’ 

‘Robbed!’ 

‘ The store been robbed, do you say V 

‘Yes,’ replied Brown, ‘it was robbed 
early this morning.’ 

‘ At what time V 

‘Why, at about four at what time. 

do you ask ? Well, to judge of the exact 
time in which the store was broken open, 

I you must, I think, inquire of those who 
I were here. Ha ! ha ! ha !’ 

: ‘ They cannot have taken much,’ said 

Monteagle, ‘or you could not be so 

that is, you could not speak so lightly 
on the occasion.’ 
i ‘ That safe ’s gone f’ 

‘What ! the little safe that we rescued 
the other day 

‘ The same which was taken from the 
skiff by Vandewater himself’ 

‘Why, Mr. Brown, that’s a serious 


OF SAN FKANCISOO. 


45 


loss. There was monej in that safe’ 

‘ Or the thieves would not have carried 
it off, to be sure, ha ! ha ! ha !’ 

‘ But how did he get in T 
^ That’s the puzzle,’ said Charley, com- 
ing up and joining in the conversation. 
‘Nothing is broken. The rascals must 
have had false keys.’ 

‘ Bather true keys, than false ones,’ 
replied Monteagle, while Brown gave a 
sudden start and slightly colored. 

‘Ha! ha! Yes, true ones, or they 
would not have answered the purpose,’ 
said the lattter. 

‘ Yet it is strange,’ continued Mont- 
eagle, for the doors were otherwise secur- 
ed, as you know, Mr. Brown, by certain 
secret fastenings which must have been 
broken before any one could have got 
in from the outside, unless he was well 
-acquainted with the premises.’ 

‘ Oh, the Sydney ducks make them 
selves well acquainted with all these mat- 
ters,’ cried Charley. ‘ All we have to do 

now is to trace out the villains’ 

‘ And begin by searching the police,’ 
said Brown. ‘ Half the thefts and rob- 
beries are committed by them.’ 

Mr. Vandewater arrived soon after, 
and was also surprised to find his store 
robbed without the rupture of a single 
fastening. He advised an immediate 
search of the premises, as the robbers 
might have left something behind them 
that would have led to their detection. 
Some persons who. had gone into the loft 
to search, soon came running down with 
the intelligence that a man was up stairs, 
fast asleep. All ran up at once, and 
there Monteagle discovered, between two 
bales, the bulky form of the Irishman, 
Jamie. He was snoring melodiously, 
and seemed to have no idea that the sun 
was already up. 


Mr. Vandewater uttered an exclama- 
tion of joy and surprise, for he thought 
discovery of the whole affair was now cer- 
tain. 

Monteagle shook the sleeping man 
with his foot. Jamie slowly opened his 
eyes, and on perceiving there were per- 
sons present, said hastily — ‘ How — what 
— is is time, Mr. Brown I Is it time 

As Mr. Brown was not present, the 
by-standers were puzzled by these sin- 
gular words. 

‘ What do you want with Mr. BrownI’ 
said Vandewater sternly. 

The Irishman rubbed his eyes, and 
perceiving in whose presence he stood, 
answered, ‘ Why, Jim Brown, to be sure, 
the eating-hojise man, he was to call me 
up in time to go down the Bay.’ 

‘ Indeed ! and so you slept here, did 
you V said Mr. "V andewater sternly. ‘ But 
how did you get in V 

‘ How did I get in, is it ? Och, and 
was n’t I working for Jim all day, and 
took a little of the mountain dew, and 
corned in here in the afternoon — and 
where is it, sure, that I am ? Can you 
tell me at all, at all V 

‘Who is this Jim Brown'!’ said Van- 
dewater turning to Charley. ‘ Can you 
lead me to him?’ asked Vandewater, 
quickly. 

‘ Och, faith, and it’s I can do that, 
same,’ put in J amic. ‘ I’ll take you to 
him, right off, jist, if you’ll show the way 

out of this what do yees call it 1 A 

church is it?’ 

The Irishman affected such blind stu- 
pidity that Vandewater was inclined to 
believe that his being in the store on 
the night of the robbery was altogether 
accidental — that he had blundered in 
while drunk and got asleep. Neverthe- 


46 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


less, he said to Monteagle, ‘ Keep that 
fellow in custody till 1 return.’ 

As Mr. Vandewater went out with 
Charley, he descried Mr. Brown, his 
partner, txamining the fastenings, and 
he observed that the face of the latter 
was very pale. 

‘ Poor fellow,’ thought Vandewater to 
himself, he takes this matter hard.’ 

On arriving at the shop of Jim Brown, 
that worthy was found at home, although 
he had just returned from some expedi- 
tion, and was covered with dust. 

Charley introduced Mr. Vandewater. 

Jim hung down his head a moment as 
if brushing the dirt from his leggings. 

‘ I want to ask you, Mr. Brown, if you 
have contemplated an excursion lately V 

‘ Sir 'I” said Jim with a stare. 

‘ He don’t savez — give me leave, sir,’ 
put in Charley. ^ Jim, we want to know 
if you have had any business out of 
town, lately? 

Jim looked first at one and then the 
other. He was a little short man, with 
squint eyes, and locked as if he had not 
shaved in a month. 

‘ I goes sometimes to see my folks 
that I trade with. I was at a rancho 
yesterday. 

‘ How late did you stay, Jim V 

‘ I am but just got home.’ 

‘ What time did you start to go away? 

‘ 1 didn’t look at the clock,’ replied 
Jim, in a surly manner. 

‘ Come as near as you can, Jim, and 
give us a true answer as you value the 
safety of your bacon,’ said Charley stern- 

b 

Jim looked up rather fiercely, but he 
saw that Ciiarley was in earnest, and re- 
plied, ^ Well, I don't know what time it 
was It may be ’twas eleven o'clock and 
may be it was only ten.’ 


‘ And you have just returned V 

‘ I told you so once before.’ 

‘ So you did. When have you seen 
Irish J amie, last V 

Jim looked keenly at his interrogators 
before he replied, ‘ Well, I can’t rightly 
tell. Not in a fortnight, I should say 
p’raps, three wrecks.’ 

‘ It’s all a cock and a bull story, that 
of Jamie,’ said Charley. ‘ You see there’s 
no truth in it. Ho must be arrested.’ ' 

Jim Brown turned away his fiico and 
his manner was suspicious upon hearing 
these words. 

As Vandewater and Charley walked 
back to the store, the latter said. ‘ We 
must see the keeper of the rancho and 
find out from him if Jim Brown has been 
there.’ 

‘ Why do you suspect this Brown of 
having been engaged in the robbery V 

‘It is strange,’ said Charley, ‘that the 
Irishman, before he had time to think, 
should have addressed Brown as one 
that had agreed to call him at a certain 
hour. We must make sure that Brown 
was at the rancho ; and if he was, a 
Philadelphia lawyer would be puzzled to 
account for Jamie’s exclamation when 
starting out of a sound sleep, and ex- 
pecting to fiad Brown at his side.’ 

‘ True.’ said Vandewater. 

‘ Leave it to me,’ continued Charley. 
‘ I will find out what ranch Jim Brown 
visited yesterday. I will call there, and 
learn when he arrived, and when he left, 
if the fellow was there at all.’ 

On returning to the store, they found 
Jamie standing outside the door, and 
surrounded by Monteagle, Mr. Brown 
and several of the neighboring dealers. 

‘So, sirrah,’ said Vandewater, ‘ that 
Brown you spoke of, says that he hasn’t 
seen you for a fortnight, and he has just 


OF SiN FIUNCISCO. 


4Y 


returned from visiting a friend out of the 
town.’ 

‘ Och, the lying villain,’ exclaimed 
Jamie, in a tone of virtuous indignation. 
‘Och, the lying, thaving, murthering 
scoundrel, and wasn’t it his own silf that 
tould me to go into the store and take a 
nap till morniii’, and ’ 

He was interrupted by the appearance 
of Jim Brown himself, who rushed into 
the crowd, and confronting Jamie, cried 
‘ How’s this ? What have you been tel- 
ling about me ?’ 

‘ About yow, is it V cried Jamie, with 
all the assurance imaginable, ‘and is it. 
you. you thafe o’ the w-o-r-r-r-l-d, that’s 
come to lie me down, and try to hang 
his friend widout judge or jury, and 
widout binifit of clargy, too. Och, you 
thunderin’ wilyun ! didn’t you tell me to 
go in here, and slape a bit, just till the 
morning, when you was to call me up, 
sure ?’ 

‘ Sir,’ said Jim Brown, addressing Van- 
dewater, ‘ When you called at my shop, 
I didn’t understand your object, and as 
your questions seemed very odd, I wasn’t 
well pleased with them ; but I’ve been 
told since that this man pretends I had 
an engagement with him. It is a lie. 
I’ve no intercourse with the man when I 
can help it.’ 

‘Hear the lying thafe,’ cried Jamie, in 
a towOring passion, and before he could 
be prevented^ he had slipped a long 
knife out of his sleeve, with which he 
rushed upon Jim Brown and stabbed him 
to the heart. 

Brown fell dead at the feet of Mont- 
eagle. The murder was committed so 
quick and unexpectedly that it was some 
minutes before the people collected there 
were apprized of what had happened! 
No sooner had the sad tale been told 


than the inhabitants came running in 
from all directions ; a large mob was 
collected, a rope procured, and it was 
with great difficulty that Charley and 
his aids could prevent the populace from 
hanging up Jamie on the spot. 

Mr. Brown also tried hard to rescue 
Jamie from the fangs of the incensed 
and vindictive crowd. 

‘Let the law take its proper course 1’ 
vociferated he, while Jamie kept crying, 
‘Och now, be aisy, you spalpeens — for 
there’s more nor me you’ll have to hang, 
when yees once begins that game, and 
some that’s your betters, too, and as 
good as’ — 

‘ Let the law take its course 1’ roared 
Mr. Brown, so loudly as to drown the 
voice of the Irishman. ‘ ^ake him away, 
Charley, as soon as possible. See what 
a crowd is collecting around her. I’m 
afraid of a riot. 

Jamie was finally carried down the 
street, in the centre of a tumultuous mob, 
some pushing one way, and some an- 
other, with fierce hootings, yells, and 
hisses, that were fairly deafening. 

A singular impression was left upon 
the mind of Monteagle by these proceed- 
ings, and he commenced the business of 
the day with a determination to watch 
closely every thing which was transpiring 
near him, and to propose to Mr. Vande- 
water that, in future, some person should 
sleep in the store every night. _ 

Jamie, who had at length, completed 
the circle of crime by the committing of 
murder, was lodged in prison, and Mont- 
eagle felt somewhat relieved on account 
of it, as he believed that the man was 
for some reason, his deadly enemy. He 
had not yet recognized this man as the 
one who shot him down in the barge. 

On that evening, Blodget called upon 


48 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


Monteagle, and appeared to be more af- 
fable than ever, talked with him about 
the robbery and made very minute en- 
quiries about Jamie, whom he thought 
innocent of any intent to rob. 

‘ It is not possible that a man bent on 
robbery should lie down and get to sleep 
in the store, or that he should be left by 
his accomplices,’ said Blodget; ‘ and with 
regard to his stupid lie about Brown, the 
man whom he killed, it was probably 
told because he did not know anything 
else to say.’ 

‘ But,’ replied Monteagle, ‘in that case 
why did he address somebody as Brown 
when ‘first starting from his sleep, and 
before he had time for premeditation V 
‘ There is something in that,^ said 
Blodget, fixing his eyes very keenly upon 
those of Monteagle. ‘ It would seem as 
if he expected to be called at a certain 
hour by this Brown.’ 

‘And why should he have been work- 
ed up to such a pitch of madness as to 
murder this Brown, if he did not feel 

that he was playing him false ’ 

‘ No — no — Monteagle. You are reas- 
oning for civilized people now. You 
don’t know these wild, uuscrupulous fel- 
lows, who like Jamie had prowled about 
in the wilderness where no moral or re- 
ligious instruction can reach them. I 
tell you that a man left wild, a prey to 
passions, is more to be feared than the 
tiger or the catamount.’ 

‘ You seem to think very hard of this 
Irishman,’ said Monteagle. 

‘ Is he not a murderer V 
The youth was silent. Many things 
rushed upon his rememberance, and all 
through there was running a thread of 
mystery which induced him to say to 
himself, ‘How little do you ‘know of 
what is going on in the world.* 


CHAPTER VII. 

The Ruined Nun — —^The Mysterious 
Note, 

That evening Monteagle accompanied 
Blodget to one of those gay houses in 
Dupont street, already mentioned. 

Wit., wine, and beauty sparkled on 
every side, and' again was the imagina- 
tion of Monteagle bewildered by the 
transcendent loveliness of Italian, Eng- 
lish, North American and South Ameri- 
can beauties, who, although accounted 
frail daughters of Eve, were a much 
more intellectual, sentimental, and edu- 
cated class than is to be found in the 
halls of pleasure in any of the older 
cities. 

While Blodget and Monteagle were 
thus spending the evening in converse 
with the nymphs of the town, the latter 
several times observed Blodget to pause 
a moment, and sit with lips apart and 
absent eye, as if listening for some sound 
in the street. 

He was under the impression that 
Blodget looked for the arrival of some 
other person. At length a confused 
murmur w^as heard as of a crowd at a 
distance. The sound approached nearer, 
and atJength, in full cry, burst upon the 
air, such exclamations as ‘ Stop him ! stop 
thief ! Broke away ! There he goes ! 
Knock him down,’ and this was followed 
by the discharge of fire-arms, and then 
came the trampling of many feet, and a 
confused roar as of a mighty concourse 
in motion. 

Every one in the house flew to the 
windows and doors; but nothing was 
to be seen except a crowd of people hur- 
rying along with loud outcries. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


49 


‘ What is the matter?’ inquired Mont- 
eagle of a person whom he knew, and 
who just then paused opposite the win- 
dow. 

* Oh, nothing much, sir,’ was the care- 
less reply. ‘ A fellow confined for mur- 
der has broken loose ; but that we shall 
always have while such a police exists.’ 

‘ There ’is next to no law in San Fran- 
cisco,’ observed Blodget, ‘but do you 
think, my good man, that the. Irishman, 
— that the prisoner — will get clear V 

‘ I don’t know,’ said the other, moving 
on, while Monteagle quickly said, ‘ So, 
you think it’s Jamie?’ 

‘ Who else can it be V said Blodget, 

‘ he is the man who has been arrested 
for murder *•’ 

‘ Of eourse,’ returned the youth, and 
yet he thought it strange that Blodget 
had hesitated when he first mentioned 
the Irishman, and he connected it with 
the fact that Blodget had seemed to be 
listening all the evening as if in anticipa- 
tion of some such occurrence. 

These reflections were, however, soon 
swallowed up by the gay conversation 
that succeeded, and the pleasures of 
wine, music, and an interchange of senti- 
ments with beings who, if virtuous, would 
have graced any drawing-room in the 
country. Still Monteagle was occasion- 
ally drawn to the contemplation of his 
friend who seemed quite restless and 
listened to every noise in the street. 

Monteagle had attached himself to an 
Italian girl, who might be nineteen years 
of age. Round and plump — with black 
amorous eyes and good teeth, she seemed 
to be all alive, and wholly made up of 
kindness and affection. 

Her history was somewhat romantic, 
as Monteagle learned it from another of 
the inmates of the house, She wms called 


Loretto, but whether a real or a feigned 
name was not known. She had taken 
the vows of a nun from the purest and 
most sincere motives, but after being 
two years in the convent, she found it 
impossible to fulfil her vows. She was 
naturally formed for love, and could no 
longer endure to exist without yielding 
to the demands of an ardent nature, in- 
flamed by a continual contemplation of 
imaginary love scenes, which always 
presented themselves to her mind when 
she would ponder upon more sacred .mat- 
ters. 

She made her escape from the convent 
and returned to her father’s house ; but 
found no rest under the paternal roof — 
Her parents upbraided her, and were pro- 
ceeding to have her returned to the con- 
vent, when she pretended to go to her 
chamber for repose. She escaped by the 
window, and as she fled through the gar- 
den she met a handsome young English- 
man to whom she at once told her story. 
He took her under his protection, with- 
out the least hesitation, and they lived 
tegether, in a retired part of the country 
several weeks. This young man was of 
a warm temperament, and here comes the 
strangest part of the story. He was so 
smitten by her charms that they upset his 
reason, and he went raving mad. Though 
she was actually at his disposal, he im- 
agined that she was some great princess 
whose love he had sought in vain, and 
under this strange belief, he, one day 
threw himself from a cliff into a bed of 
rocks on the sea-shore and was killed. — 
She took possession of his mangled body 
and bis effects, found out his friends and 
delivered them into their hands. 

She mourned long and bitterly for the 
loss of her lover ; hut her passionate na- 
ture again prevailed, and she accepted 


60 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


the offers of a native Count, who was 
soon killed in a quarrel. 

Believing that a fatality attended her 
in her own land, and learning that spies 
had been placed upon her actions by her 
relatives, she came to Brazil, and from 
thence, soon afterwards, to San Francis- 
co. Such was Loretto, the Italian maid, 
whose fervid passions were kindled by 
the manly graces of Monteagle. 

She appeared to be all life and soul, 
and she made a lively impression upon 
our youth. 

As the evening waned, and while he 
sat conversing with Loretto, Monteagle 
heard three distinct, though very low 
taps, on the outer door. At the same 
time, he saw Blodget raise his head and 
listen. Then he conducted himself as if 
nothing had happened, and conversed 
carelessly with the woman to whom he 
had attached himself. But in a very few 
moments, he arose and whispering in the 
ear of Monteagle, said — ‘ I must quit you 
for a little while. I have forgotten some- 
thing : but I will return before long.’ 

Blodget then departed and soon after- 
wards, Monteagle withdrew with Loret- 
to. He saw no more of Blodget on that 
night. In the morning, he learned that 
Jamie, the murderer, had made good his 
escape in a somewhat mysterious manner. 
He had disappeared behind the sand-hills 
although surrounded by several hundred 
men. 

The earth must have opened and 
swallowed him up,’ said Mr. Brown, the 
junior partner. 

I think that he was not the robber of 
our store,’ said Mr Vandewater, thought- 
fully, ‘ for he would scarcely have remain- 
ed here all night, if he had shared in the 
booty.’ 


‘ What could have been his errand, 
said Brown. 

‘ The fellow might have blundered in 
here, in a fit of intoxication and gone to 
sleep,’ said Monteagle. 

‘ But why did he kill that tripeman V 
inquired Mr Vandewater. 

‘ Oh, the fellow would kill anybody,’ 
said Monteagle. 

Mr. Brown looked very mysterious, and 
finally seeming to muster up courage, he 
pulled a note from his pocket, and said to 
Monteagle — ‘ Perhaps you can tell why 
this note addressed to you was picked up 
on the very spot where the murderer was 
sleeping.’ — 

‘ How !’ cried Vandewater. ‘What’s 
in the note?’ 

‘ I have not taken the liberty to break 
the Seal,’ returned Brown, ‘ Its contents 
will be known to Mr. Monteagle whenev- 
er he chooses to do so.’ 

Brown handed the note to Monteagle, 
It was written on fine, gilt-edged paper, 
and directed to ‘‘ Mr. Lorenzo Monteagle, 
Montgomery street.’’ 

The astonished youth broke the seal, 
and opened the note. On the top was 
marked “ Strictly Private^'^ It read 
thus : 

‘ Dear Sir: You may think it strange 
that you and I were seperated so sudden- 
ly on that evening in Dupont street ; but 
a particular friend of mine was the cause, 
as you saw. If you are at liberty this 
evening call without fail to see me, but 
not at that house. You know the cliff 
near which lies the English barque St. 
George. I will be under that cliff, on the 
sea-shore at 8 o’clock precisely. This is 
very private. Let no one see it. It is 
sent by a man who will hand it to you, 
privately if he has an opportunity. Come 
if you can. Maria.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


51 


‘Ah — it is too late!’ said Monteagle 
aloud, and putting the note into his 
pocket. 

‘ It would seem that we are not to be 
edified by the contents of your note,’ said 
Mr. Brown, looking at Vande water. 

‘ What shall I do,’ said the youth to 
himself. * This is something important, 
without doubt.’ 

‘ Private, is it not?’ inquired Yande- 
water. 

‘ Sir !’ said Monteagle, rather surpris- 
ed at the question. 

‘ You must know that this is a peculiar 
occasion,’ said Mr. Brown, rightly inter- 
preting Monteagle’s surprise. ‘At an- 
ro the time, it would be highly impropo 
to express any curiosity with regard to 
the purport of that note. 

‘ This note is nothing,’ said the youth. 
‘ It is strictly confidential and has no 
relation to the robbery whatever.’ 

Yande water looked at Mr. Brown, and 
the latter raised bis eye-brows and slow- 
ly shook his head. The grimace was not 
observed by Monteagle, whose thoughts 
were with the young lady beneath the 
cliff. 

‘You will observe, Mr. Monteagle,’ 
said Brown, in a very gentle and yet 
distinct tone, ‘that a heavy robbery has 
been committeed. An atrocious male- 
factor is found asleep in the store that 
has been robbed ; a letter, evidently 
dropped by him tears your address up- 
on its back. If he is taken and brought 
to trial, of course that letter will be need- 
ed.’ 

‘ So far I can satisfy your curiosity,’ 
said Monteagle. ‘ It appears that Jamie 
was employed as messenger to bring me 
this letter. It is probable that he came 
here drunk and fell asleep . 

‘ That seems to account fully for the 


man’s presence. It is as I thought, that 
he is guiltless of the robbery,’ said Yan- 
dewater. 

Brown compressed his lips, partly 
nodded, partly shook Ms head, raised his 
eye-brows, and turned away, like a man 
who is only half convinced, and who has 
made some discovery that he hesitates 
to unfold. 

At supper that evening, Julia Yan de- 
water was aS gracious as usual ; but when 
he arose to go abroad, she said to him 
as he passed the door, ‘You keep very 
late hours. Sir Lorenzo ; I must take 
you in charge, myself.’ 

Although this was said in a tone of 
raillery, yet there was the slightest pos- 
sible air of reproof in it, enough to make 
Monteagle feel that the deluded girl con- 
sidered herself entitled to express an 
opinion upon his conduct. 

As he travelled over the hills towards 
the town, the youth said to himself — 
‘ Would it be more cruel to break this 
bublile at once, or suffer it to collapse 
of itself in due time ? Surely a flame 
that is never fed won’t burn long, and I 
have given J ulia not the least reason to 
suppose that I regarded her with par- 
tiality.’ 

He had arrived at a thick clump of 
bushes, at a considerable distance from 
any house though a small rancho was in 
plain sight, when he heard something stir 
among the leaves and branches. He 
drew out his revolver. 

‘ Will you shoot me ?’ inquired a sil- 
ver voice, and in another moment, Maria 
stood before him. 

‘ Ah ! Good night. I wanted to see 
you,’ said Monteagle. ‘ I received your 
note — ’ 

‘ When.’ 

‘ Not till to day,’ replied the youth, ‘al- 


52 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


thougli it must have been written two or 
three days ago,’ 

‘ He’s longer than that/ replied Maria 
‘ I waited for you nearly all night; 

‘ At the place you designated — under 
the cliff V 

‘ Yes; 

‘ Then your business must be import- 
ant. I am sorry that I did not get the 
note in time.’ 

Maria remained silent some moments. 
At length, she began — ‘ My errand is no 
great things. I wanted to see you.’ 

The youth laid his hand on her shoul- 
der kindly. 

‘No’ — said she— ‘ You don’t under- 
stand. All you, gentlemens, think girls 
love you always. Nothing to do but 
love man, when man laugh at her/ and 
she shook her locks independently. 

‘ But I am glad to see you at any 
rate,’ said Monteagle. 

‘ Oh, yes, you are very glad to see me 
— some — but you are more glad to see’ 

^ Whom ?’ 

‘You know best.’ 

Monteagle thought of Loretto, whose 
witching graces and rich personal charms 
had, indeed, wrought powerfully upon 
his imagination. 

‘ Come tell me where she lives; ^aid 
he. 

‘ You have just come from there,’ re- 
turned Maria. 

‘ No, upon my honor, T have not be/eii 
there since last night.’ 

Maria started, and her eyes shone 
brilliantly as she gazed into his face. 

‘Not been home to-day?’ cried she. 

‘ Ah, yes» I have just come from the ' 
house of Mr. Vandewater.’ 

‘ And who lives there f inquired she, 
fixing her eyes keenly on the face of the 
youth. 


‘ Mr. and Mrs. Yandewater, their niece 
and the servants,’ replied he. 

‘The niece! the neice !’ cried Maria. 
‘What of herf 

‘ A very fine young lady, I believe.’ 

‘ Yery fine? Yes, very fine — ^you find 
her so ? Y ery fine.’ 

‘ Maria,’ said he, in a decisive tone, ‘if 
you have been told that I love Julia Yan- 
dewater, or that I have ever given her 
the least reason to suspect so, you have 
been told a downright falsehood.’ 

‘You not love Julia? No? Not a 
little bit?’ and she siczed his hand aci 
gazed into his face earnestly. 

‘ No, Maria, I do not love her.’ 

Maria was silent, and looked much 
puzzled. She trotted her foot; she 
looked at Monteagle, and then she fixed 
her gaze upon the ground for several 
minutes. 

Suddenly lifting her head, she said 
to Monteagle in a brisk tone, ‘ You tell 
me one very big lie !’ 

‘ No, upon my honor.’ 

After a moiiKnt’s silence, she said, 
‘ Where you bavo been last niglit V 

‘I can’t tell you that, Maria.’ 

‘Ah! I find you out. You love one 
pretty lady : you see her last night, and 
you say I not tell you where I go las 
night.’ 

‘ No, Maria, I have answered one of 
your questions ; but cannot answer the 
other.’ 

Maria looked down, and breathed a 
deep sigh. 

Monteagle-s pride was a little touched. 
He said, ‘ I do not know that I shall ever 
marry, Maria. But if I happened to 
fall in with a congenial spirit — a virtu^ 
ous, chaste^ resf ectable girl, I don’t 
know what might happen.’ 

Maria threw back her head, shook her 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


53 


raven tresses fiercely, and her nosirils 
dilated as she answered — ‘What thing 
Is men ! they think of nobody but him- 
self. Woman got soul for somebody be- 
sides herself, ’ and she struck her breast 
forcibly, so much so that Monteagle 
heard a dagger rattle in its scabbard. 

‘ Oh, yes, Maria, I have feeling for 
others,’ returned Monteagle. ‘ I have 
feeling for you, and although I may not 
wish to marry you’ 

The girl whirled completely round on 
one foot, and interrupted Monteagle by 
a shout of laughter that might have 
roused the inmates of the distant ranch. 

He looked at her surprised. Scarcely 
deigning him a glance, she began again, 
and laughed till her breath failed her. 

‘ Man is so fool !’ said she at length. 

‘ Here,’ she continued, taking a string of 
costly pearls from some place where they 
had been concealed about her person, 
and laying them on his hand. ‘You 
think that poor Maria give you these % 
You think I buy?’ 

Monteagle examined the precious gift 
by the twilight, and perceived that it 
was, indeed, too magnificent to have 
come from the poor nymph, and that it 
must be a gift from some unknown in- 
dividual. 

He perceived the drift of Maria’s ques- 
tionings. He believed that this was the 
gift of some wealthy lady who was kind- 
ly disposed towards him ; and that Maria 
had been commissioned to sound him on 
the subject of his reported attachment to 
Julia. 

Here was an adventure, indeed, and 
his imagination was at once set on fire. 

• Tell me, Maria, the name of the la- 
dy V 

‘ What lady?’ 

‘ The lady who sent me these pearls ’ 


‘ A Lady — ha ! ha ! ha ! It was not 
a lady. It was one big gentleman.’ 

Monteagle’s vanity fell ninety degrees, 
at hearing these words. 

‘ Who was the gentleman ?’ inquired 
he, impatiently 

* Who is your lady that you saw last 
night ?’ questioned the wilful girl. 

‘ Oh, nobody — nothing at all. No- 
body that I shall ever fall in love with 
I promise you that,’ 

‘ Not fall in love ? Where you go to. 
night V 

Monteagle smiled at this close ques- 
tion, for he felt a little caught He was 
bound to Loretto when he met Maria. 

The girl turned and began to leave him. 

‘ Stop, Maria, tell me more about these 
pearls. Who is the gentleman who sent 
them to me ?’ 

Who is the lady you see last night 
and go to see to-night too ?* demanded 
she retreating. 

Monteagle pursued, when she quicken- 
ed her pace and finally fled with the fleet- 
ness of a fawn. Not caring to be seen 
chasing a woman by several travellers, 
whom he had observed coming that way, 
Monteagle slackened his pace. Maria 
was soon out of sight, and Monteagle 
was besieged by a thousand ideas at once. 

‘ She tells me that this valuable gift 
came from a man — a wealthy nabob — and 
yet she enquires as closely into the state 
of my heart as if she was the agent of 
one of her own sex who had an interest 
in knowing whether I was in love with 
Julia Yandewater or not. At any rate, 
she has gone oflF in the belief that I have 
a lady in view — That I am in love with 
her, with whom I spent last night and to 
whom I am now going > — Perhaps — yes, 
perhaps, after all, this is a present from 
a lady, and that Maria was charged not 


54 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


to tell that fact unless she should discov- 
er that my heart was disengaged, and 
that believing it to be otherwise, she feig- 
ned that these pearls came from a rich 
old fellow who had nothing to do with 
his wealth but to send it about the coun- 
try by the hands of ladies of pleasure 
begging young men to accept of it ! No, 
no, that won’t do. This gift has come 
from a lady.’ 

He thought of the veiled female, sup- 
posed to be a nun, who brought Maria 
the note. Might not she be the giver?’ 

‘ But no, her errand was to the girl? 
not me.’ 

A moment’s reflection taught him, that 
it would be improper to go with his val- 
uable prize to the house whither he was 
bound, as Loretto might suppose, in case 
she discovered it that it was intended as 
a gift to her, and would experience a dis- 
pointment when informed that such was 
not its destiny. 

He turned on his steps to return to the 
house, and a moment afterwards heard 
quick footsteps behind him. He turned, 
at the same time placing his hand on his 
revolver ; but the two men whe now ap- 
proached him seemed to be peacably in- 
clined. 

^ A fine night, sir,’ said one of the stran- 
gers. 

‘ It is indeed,’ replied Monteagle. 

‘ Have you seen anything of a large 
brown goat, hereabouts, sir,’ continued 
the man who had first spoken. 

‘I have not,’ was the reply, and Mont- 
cagle, bidding them * good evening,’ turn- 
ed to take his way to tho city. At this 
moment his arms were firmly pinioned to 
his sides by one of the men, while the oth- 
er quickly and adroitly drew his revolv- 
er from his pocket, and passed a strong 
cord several times tightly round his arms. 


The man who had heretofore held him 
in his iron gripe, in spite of bis determin- 
ed struggles, suddenly tripped up his 
heels, and he fell heavily upon the hard 
beach. 

The sudden shock for a few seconds 
deprived him of his senses, and when rec- 
ollection returned he found himself still 
Ijing on the wet shore, from which tho 
tide had but just receded. His arms were 
tightly lashed behind his back, and his 
eyes closely bandaged. 

For a few moments no sound was 
heard but the low murmuring of the small 
waves as they rolled upon the beach, and 
his own heavy breathing, for he had vio- 
lently resisted the ruffians in their attempt 
to bind him ; but the assault had been too 
sudden and unexpected for his efforts to 
be of any avail* 

He now attempted to unbind his arms, 
but all his attempts were perfectly futile. 

‘ I hope you’re having a good time of 
it, casting off them stoppers. Nothing’ll 
open them lashings but a sharp knife, and 
if you get one at all it will be through 
your blasted ribs, if I had my way about 
it.’ 

‘ Who are you, sir ; and what means 
this rascally violence V 

* Take it coolly, my young game-cook, 
and bless your stars you havn’t a brace 
of bullets through your bloody heart,’ 
said another voice, which he recognised as 
that of the person who had questioned 
him about the goat. 

Monteagle revolved in his mind all the 
occurrences which had transpired in the 
last few days, in order to account for this 
strange outrage. At first he thought rob- 
bery might be their object ; but this idea 
was put to flight when he remembered 
that while he lay senseless no attempts 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


55 


bad been made to deprive him of the lit- 
tle gold he bad about him. 

Another person now joined the party, 
and he heard the three in low and appa- 
rently earnest consultation. Soon they 
ceased talking, and approached him. — 
Two of them raised him to his feet, and 
one of them said in a rough, brutal tone, 
‘ Now, stir your stumps, and walk where 
we lead you.’ 

But how if I refuse to walk T said 
Monteagle, 

^ Then we’ll take you by the neck and 
drag you over the beach, if the sharp 
stones scrape the flesh from your cursed 
bones.’ 

‘ Release me ; or my cries shall bring 
assistance,’ said Monteagle, resolutely. 

‘ Speak one loud word, and the con 
tents of this crash through your scull,’ 
said the last comer, in a firm calm voice, 
and our hero felt the cold muzzle of a re- 
volver pressed against his temple, and at 
the same instant the sharp click announ- 
ced it was at full cock. 

Monteagle had as brave a heart as ever 
beat in mortal bosom ; but here was a 
dilemma that would have made even 
Jack Hays pause for reflection. 

But little time was given Monteagle 
for thought. 

‘ D — n,’ cried one of his captors, impa- 
patiently, let’s be moving. We’ve got a 
long road, and a heavy night’s work be- 
fore us yet.’ 

‘ By , your right, old boss,’ said 

one of them, ^ there’s been fooling enough 
already.’ 

So saying, he seized Monteagle by the 
collar with no gentle grasp. 

The latter seeing that resistance would 
only lend to his being di’agged along by 
main force, if not to his instant death, 


told them to unbind him, and he would 
walk peaceably along with them. 

‘ That’s right, youngster, you’ll save 
us the price of a couple of bullets, and 
the trouble of reloading,’ said the fellow 
with the revolver. 

After proceeding alongside the beach 
for some hundred yards, they clambered 
up the almost perpendicular face of the 
c#ff, by the assistance of the dwarf trees 
and jutting rocks. Monteagle being aid- 
ed by two of the men, who each held one 
his arms. 

Before gaining the summit of the cliff, 
one of the party g-ave a low, peculiar 
whistle, somewhat like the cry of a cur- 
lew. It was immediately responded to 
and they set out iu the direction from 
whence proceeded what was evidently 
the pre-concerted signal. 

* All right, Jimmy,’ said one of Mont- 
eagle’s captors. 

‘ The divil a hit of noise I hear, I heard 
only the barking of them cursed lane 
wolfs that the uncivilized graysers call 
key-oats. And the d — d half starved 
things made me feel a hit afeard, for they 
sounded like a dog howling, and you 
know when a dog howls its sure some one 
that hears him is soon going under the 
sod.’ 

‘ Shut up your Murphy -trap, Jim, or 
just open it, and take a swallow of this: 
I got it at the Sazerac as I passed, think- 
ing you might need a little Dutch cour- 
age, and that brandy would put pluck 
into even John Chinaman’s chicken heart. 

^ Come, come, let’s mount and be off.’ 
This order was given by a voice which 
Monteagle recognised as that of the man 
who placed the pistol at his head, and 
who appeared to be the leader of the 
gang. 

Monteagle was placed upon a horse, 


56 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


and with a mounted man on each side, of 
him, one of whom held the lariot of his 
Steed. The word was given to proceed, 
and they all started at a brisk trot. 

‘ What way V said Jimmy. 

‘ Right straight for the hut P was 
the response. 

Monteagle and his assailants had just 
disappeared in a deep hollow, when a 
man suddenly emerged from the thick 
shrubbery that enclosed the spot from 
which the party had departed. He was 
a short, powerfully built man. Even in 
the moonlight one could see that there 
were more white than black hairs in the 
abundant locks that fell upon his various- 
ly colored blanket; but his eye-brows 
were coal-black, and bent over eyes as 
bright and keen as the point of a dagger. 

‘ Holy Barbara !* ejaculated he in 
Spanish, while his hands almost mechan- 
ically made the sign of the Cross. ‘ what 
in the name of San Diabolo are they go* 
ing to do with that youth. But I must 
be off, or it will be too late to save him. 
No wonder our dear mistress Donna Inez 
loves him. I owe him a good turn, too, 
for he certainly saved my life when them 
two * Pike’ hombres were going to give 
me ‘ hell,’ as they called it, because I was 
sober on the Fourth of July.’ Thus solil- 
oquising, the Californian, for such he was, 
withdrew o^^ce more into the thicket, and 
in a second returned, followed by a noble 
looking steed, black as midnight. 

‘ You shall have a good run now, my 
handsome Cid,’ said the old Californian, 
as he patted the mane upon the fore- 
head of the noble animal, as gently as a 
father would the curls that clustered on 
the brow of a favorite daughter. 

Without touching foot to stirrups, he 
vaulted lightly into the saddle, shook the 
teins, and the next instant Cid was bear- 


ing his rider through the hollows and 
over the hills that lay between them and 
the Mission, near which was the ranche 
inhabited by the father of Donna Inez. 

Sanchez, for such was the name of the 
horseman, never drew rein until he stop- 
ped abruptly at the gate of his mistress* 
domicil. Here he alighted, entered the 
house, and sought an interview with the 
beautiful daughter of Signor Castro. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The Lone Hut — The Torture ! 

Return we now to Monteagle. The 
ruthless gang of fellows who had made 
him prisoner rode on in almost total 
silence over the vast treeless, shrubless, 
sand bank which lies between the bluff 
headlands and the little laguna, where 
the pig-eyed votaries of Confucius per- 
form the scrubbing, dipping and pound- 
ing of linen, dignified with the- misnomer 
oiaiashing. As if anything immersed 
in that chocolate-hued fluid could emerge 
purer than it entered. Skirting the 
shore of the laguna, the party soon 
reached a tolerably good road. This 
they followed for about half a mile. One 
of the party riding some distance in ad- 
vance in order to give notice of the ap- 
proach of any unwelcome intruder. No 
person appeared, however, to interfere 
I with their plans and they soon struck 
j off into the sand hills, where their per- 
I sons were hidden from view by the scrub 
; oaks and wild lilac bushes^hat covered 
I these lo’^ ely spots, since dotted with 
I with neat little cottages and smiling 
I gardens. Heaven grant that they may 
' ever be the abode of prosperity and hap- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


57 


piness, as they have always been of open- 
hearted hospitality. 

Half an hour’s more riding brought 
them to the place of iheir destination. It 
was a rude hut or cabin, such as ‘ squat- 
ters’ put up when taking possession — 
peaceably if they can , forcibly if they 
^ must. This hut was erected at the bot- 
tom of a deep dell, surrounded on all 
sides by hills so abrupt that they were 
forced to leave the horses tied above, 
while they made the descent on foot. 

Both externally and internally this 
looked like the ordinary abode of a new 
settler But no sooner had the gang 
entered with their prisoner, than a lignt 
was procured, and one of the party, 
moving a mattress, lifted a trap door 
that gave entrance to a subterraneous 
apartment of some extent. It was pro- 
bably a natural cavern, the entrance to 
which had been accidentally discovered 
by the^e desperadoes. Its isolated sit- 
uation suggested it^ usefulness to them 
as a secret place of rendezvous, and a re- 
ceptacle for plunder. One of them had 
acjordingly squatted on the place and 
put up the hut. 

Monteagle was handed down into this 
apartment, his eyes sfill blindfolded — 
but the close, damp air informed his 
senses that he was in an underground 
apartment of some kind. The more he 
reflected the more he became mystified 
in his endeavors to ascertain the mo- 
tives that had prompted these ruffians to 
take him prisoner in this most unac- 
countable manner. He had ‘recognized 
the voice of the man called ‘ Jimmy’ as 
that of thevillian found asleep in Yan- 
dewater’s store, and who had been ar- 
rested for murder, and afterwards escap- 
ed from justice. But this discovery did 
not explain why he had been thus kid- 


napped. His suspense was, however, 
soon ended, as shall presently be shown. 

The cavern was of large dimensions, 
yet was more than half filled with silks, 
broadcloths, laces, and velvets of the 
costliest descriptions piled promiscuous- 
ly together. Upon these heaps lay gob- 
lets, salvers and ladles of gold and silver 
ware, some showing signs of use, but 
most appearing bright and untarnished 
as when they glittered on the jeweller’s 
shelves. These things were evidently 
the result of successful, robberies and 
explained why the neighboring city had 
been swept by so many conflagrations. 

In one corner of the cavern a small, 
thin, sharp-visaged man bent over a 
large crucible, the flickering flames be- 
neath which shed a red glow upon his 
swarthy, anxious countenance. At the 
first glance this individual might have 
been mistaken for one of those alchem- 
ists who, in the dark ages, sought to 
transmute the baser metals into gold, 
or discover an elixir that would give 
to mortal man eternal vigor and immor- 
tal youth. He of the crucible was en- 
gaged in no such visionary employment. 
Beside him stood dies and other mech- 
anical contrivances for the manufacture 
of coin, while a large box full of glitter- 
ing ‘ octagons’ showed that he was busy 
‘ augmenting the currency,’ by fabricat- 
ing spurious ‘ slugs.’ 

Monteagle now once more demanded 
the cause of his detention. 

‘ Your employer, Yandewater, lately 
sold a vessel on account of a New York 
merchant, for thirty thousand dollars, 
which sum he received in gold. That 
money was placed in. your safe ’ 

‘Then you are the robbers!’ 

‘ Silence, and listen I When we open* 
ed the safe, it only held a few thousands 


58 


MYSTERIP^S AND MISERIES 


belongiDg to the firm. You know where 
the thirty thousand is placed. Inform 
Tis, and you shall be liberated, and if we 
obtain the money, you shall have five 
thousand dollars for your share.’ 

‘ ril die first,’ indignantly cried Mont- 
eagle. 

‘ No — you’ll confess first, and may be 
die soon after,’ said a voice which Mont- 
eagle to his surprise and joy recognized 
as that of Blodget. 

‘ What, Blodget, my friend, you here ? 
Then this is all a joke. But it has been 
carried much to far,' said Monteagle, his 
cheek flushing as he thought of the vio- 
lence he had been subjected to. 

‘If it’s a joke, youngster, you’ll think 
its a d — d poor one before we get through 
with -it. But enough of this fooling ! 
Tell where the money ’s to be found, or 
by h-11 we’ll make you !’ 

‘Never — so help me heaven I’ said 
Monteagle, determinedly. 

‘ Just hand me that little vice,’ said 
Blodget, in a cool, business-like, tone.- 

‘ Is it this V said Jimmy, bringing over 
a small, portable iron vice, from among 
the tools by the furnace. 

‘ That’s right,’ said Blodget. ‘ Now, 
lads, hold him fast.’ Monteagle was sud- 
denly prostrated upon the damp floor, 
and firmly held there by the ruffiansr al- 
though he put forth lion like strength 
in his struggles to shake off his enemies. 
‘Now, then, well try his nerves,’ said 
Blodget, and immediately proceeded to 
adjust the vice on one of Monteagle’s 
thumbs. ^ Will you tell where the money 
can be found?’ said Blodget. 

Monteagle made no rejdy. 

Blodget gave the vice a couple of turns 
but Monteagle gave no signs of feeling 
except an involuntary shudder and a 
heavy sigh. 

Again his heartless tormentor gave 


the vice a turn. Still the brave youth 
jemained silent, although the pain was 
fearful, and he could feel the hot blood 
gushing from under his nail. 

‘Knock out the stubborn divil’s brains,’ 
cried Jimmy, waxing impatient at the 
delay. 

‘ Keep cool, Jimmy,’ said Blodget. ‘ It 
is money we want, not brains.’ 

Another turn of the vice — but Mont- 
eagle , save by a low, involuntary groan^ 
gave no token of the agony he suffered. 

‘ Curse the fellow, it’s as hard to ex- 
tract gold from him as to crush it out 
of quartz rocks. He ’s so devilish stub- 
born, I see he will die, as he says, bo 
fore he ’ll tell where tqe gold is placed. 
Now, boys, what ’s to be done?’ contin- 
ued Blodget, looking around inquiringly 
into the villainous faces of his compan- 
ions. 

They were all silent, for some seconds. 
At length the man that we have describ- 
ed as being employed over the furnace, 
broke silence, saying, ‘ Let me manage 
him, and I’ll promise to make him tell, 
not only where we may find this gold, 
but reveal far weightier secrets, if such 
he knows.’ 

• Go a-head I Signor Maretzo,’ ^aid 
Blodget, ‘ but remember that we have no 
racks and wheels, or any of those other 
ingenious contrivances so common in 
your precious country.’ 

^ My country is what tyrants and 
priests have made it ;’ returned the Ita- 
lian* ‘ Even the accursed act I am now 
about to practice I learned in the dun- 
geons of the holy inquisition. There my 
heart was turned to marble, and every 
drop of pity congealed forever.’ 

‘ Let the blessid church alone, or you 
and me 11 have a row, old black-heard,’ 
said Jimmy, quite fiercely. 

‘ That ‘ Sazerac’ brandy has awakened 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


59 


Jimmy’s religious feeliDgs. But, come, 
come — there’s been too much of this 
fooling. Maretzo, if you can make this 
stubborn devil talk, do so at once !’ 

Maretzo made some arrangements 
about his furnace, and joined the party 
gathered around Monteagle — who still 
lay, bound and blind-folded, upon the 
dungeon floor. 

The Italian then took up a piece of 
linen from one of the piles of dry goods, 
and placed it smoothly and tightly over 
Monteagle’s lips and nostrils. Ho then 
took a glass of water, and poured a few 
drops upon the linen. The poor youth 
could draw breath with difficulty through 
the dry linen, but when its threads be- 
came swollen by absorbing the water 
his respiration was almost entirely pre- 
vented. His breast heaved by involun- 
~ lary muscular expansion — great drops 
of sweat started from every pore, while 
the veins of his neck and forehead grew 
swoln and purple,- It required the unit- 
ed force of all the scoundrels that sur- 
rounded him to retain his writhing body 
on the earth. 

Poor Monteagle’s convulsive and spas- 
modic efforts, however, soon subsided, 
and it appeared as if his tormentors had 
gone too far, and that death had stepped 
in and snatched their helpless victim 
from further cruelties. 

Maretzo removed the cloth, and after 
a few heavy and painful attempts at 
breathing, Monteagle’s low groans and 
sighs told how dreadful had been his suf- 
ferings. 

‘Now, G — d d — n your stubborn soul 
will you tell us where to find the money,’ 
said Blodget. 

Heavy, deep-drawn sighs, were the 
poor youth’s sole reply. ’ 

‘Give him another dose,’ said one of 


the heartless ruffians, ‘ he likes the med- 
icine so well.’ 

At this instant the trap door was 
lifted, and one of the gang, who had 
been stationed on the neighboring hill as 
a look-out, cried : 

‘ I see a party of horsemen making 
right for the hut, at full gallop. Wo 
must have been followed. Let’s be ofl^ 
at once, or we ’re sure to be taken 1’ 

‘ Sure an’ let’s have a brush wid ’em/ 
said Jimmy. 

‘ Never fight till you’re obliged to,’ 
said Blodget. 

‘ Lay hold of this fellow,’ said Maret- 
zo, ‘ and carry him to a horse, then let’s 
all start down towards the Heads. I 
know of a cave there, that has never 
had any dwellers except seals. There 
we can keep this youth, and wring the 
secret from him, or, failing that, put him 
where he '11 tell no tales.’ 

No more words were wasted ; this 
striking the whole party as the best plan 
they could pursue under the circumstan- 
ces. Accordingly, a couple of men seiz- 
ed hold of Monteagle, and bore him up 
the stairs, through the hut, and then to 
the summit of the acclivity where tho 
horses were tethered. The rest of tho 
party followed, bearing with them all 
the most valuable and portable articles 
they could get hold of in their haste. . 

By the time the whole gang were ia 
the saddle and ready for a start, the ap- 
proaching party of riders had got to 
within a quarter of a mile of the hut. 
They were coming from the direction of 
the Mission. 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


m 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Maid — the Rohher — the Race. 

The reader will remember that we 
left Sanchez at the house of Signor Cas- 
tro, whither he had ridden with speed, 
upon hearing the directions given to con- 
vey Monteagle to the solitary hut, with 
the whereabouts of which he was well 
acquainted. 

Leaping from his horse, Sanchez mere- 
ly cast the reins upon his neck, and the 
well trained animal stood almost motion- 
less awaiting the return of his rider. 

Upon entering the house the first en- 
quire of Sanchez was for his young mis- 
tress, Donna Inez. She had gone to the 
Mission Church, to attend the vesper 
services, and had not yet returned. 

Again Sanchez was in the saddle, and 
in a few moments reached the square 
fronting the rude antique edifice in 
which many generations of Californians 
have been christened, wedded and buried. 
Here he again dismounted, entered the 
church, and catching the eye of his mis- 
tress, motioned her to follow him, and 
then withdrew from the church. No 
sooner had they passed from beneath the 
sacred roof, than Sanchez related to her 
all that he had witnessed on the beach, 
when Monteagle was seized. 

The youthful maiden’s lovely cheek 
now paled till it was white as alabaster, 
then crimsoned till its flush rivalled the 
ruddiest rose, as she listened to the rude 
but graphic description given by San- 
chez of the violent seizure of the gallant 
youth who had bravely rushed into the 
flames and saved her from a dreadful 
death. 

Donna Inez directed Sanchez to go to 
a small hotel, on a road that leads into 
the Mission Plaza, and inquire for one Jo- 
aquin. If he saw him, he was to say the 


lady desired to meet him instantly, at her 
father’s residence. 

Sanchez did the bidding of his young 
mistress with due diligence. He found 
Joaquin busy at a game of billiards; 
but no sooner did he rece Jo the message 
than throwing down his cue he rushed to 
the door, and leaped into the saddle of a 
splendid looking hor.‘4e, which was quiet- 
ly standing untied at the door. Bidding 
Sanchez to follow, Joaquin struck the 
spurs deep into the flanks of his fiery 
steed, and proceeded at a gallop towards 
the dwelling of Signor Castro. 

When Joaquin arrived in front of the 
mansion^he found the young and lovely 
lady standing in the portico. She was 
attired in the rich garb of a Mexican 
cavalier. But neither the large topped 
boots, nor the ample poncho could dis- 
guise the matchless symmetry of that 
perfect form : rich in every grace that 
renders woman resistless. Her rounded 
bosom heaved wildly beneath the folds of 
her poncho as Joaquin lifted his hat be- 
fore her, at the same moment reining in 
his foaming steed with such a sudden and 
powerful efiPort, that the spirited animal 
was forced down almost on his haunches. 

‘ Buenos nochtes^ Donna Inez,’ said the 
robber, for such he was, respectfully. 

‘ Thank you — thank you, Joaquim, for 
your promptness. You are indeed grate- 
ful,’ said Donna Inez. 

‘ My dear lady,’ replied Joaquin, ^ give 
me I beg of you, an opportunity to prove 
my gratitudein some more difficult shape 
than in riding a short distance on a fine 
evening.’ 

‘I will Joaquin, I desire this night, 
to have your aid in an enterprise full of 
difficulty ; nay, of absolute danger.’ said 
Inez 

‘ Danger !’ cried the robber, and his 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


61 


bright black eyes dilated and sparkled 
like those of a war-horse when the clan- 
gor of trumpets smites his ear. ‘ Let the 
enterprise be full of danger, and 1 will 
execute it for the danger’s sake — much 
more willingly however, if I also servo 
you, my dear, my noble young lady. Oh, 
never can be effaced froai my heart your 
kindness to my poor, darling CarmenciL 
to, after those fiends had ’ the rob- 

ber paused, his swarthy visage became of 
ashy hue, and his strong frame trembled 
with some violent emotion. ‘ Enough of 

this 1 live but for two purposes 

gratitude to you, and revenge on them 
hell-born villains — tlien welcome death 
in any shape ; for what have I more to 
do in this world, when my poor Garmen- 
cito lies in her cold grave V 

Inez, who knew how cruelly this man 
had been treated, waited ere she again 
addressed him. When ho became some- 
what calmer, she said : 

‘ Joaquin, some villains have seized 
the brave young man who saved my life, 
and carried him to the lone hut over 
among the sand* hills. I am determined 
to rescue him, and need your aid, and 
that of some of your friends.’ 

‘Most willingly,’ replied Joaquin, and 
placing a small sliver bugle to his lips he 
blew two notes, so sharp and loud that 
their echoes could be heard reverberating 
from the distant hills. But awakening 
the echoes were not the only effect. In 
a few moments, coming from different di- 
rections, nearly a dozen horsemen could 
be seen drawing towards the spot where 
the sounds proceeded. 

Meanwhile, Sanchez, in obedience to 
the directions of his mistress had saddled 
her favorite horse, and led him to the 
front of the house ; when Inez, d dining 
assistance, vaulted lightly into the richly 


mounted saddle en and as the 

fiery animal bounded and curvetted, her 
full but exquisitely moulded limbs yield- 
ed gracefully to each movement of the 
animal she bestrode, while she tried to 
check his impatience by patting his coal 
olack neck with her little hand, whiter 
ti an the pearls that zoned her taper fin- 
gers, and speaking to him in those soft 
endearing expressions of which the Span • 
ish is so full. 

No sooner ad the horsemen, summon- 
<^d by t’le bugle of Joaquin, all assem- 
bled, than they started at a brisk pace, 
led by Sanchez, through the bridle-path 
that led in the direction of the hut. 

It was the approach of this party which 
nduced the gang who had captured 
Monteagle, to leave the hut in such 
haste. 

Monteagle was so exceeding weak when 
he reached the spot where the horses of 
the thieves were tied, that, even had he 
wished to do so, he could not have retain- 
ed his seat, in the the saddle a moment. 
So, after placing him astride a horse, they 
lashed him in his seat with one of those 
ever-present and ever-useful lariats. 

No sooner was this done than away 
they started in the direction of the Pre- 
sidio Road, the pursuing foe, being less 
then a third of a mile behind them. 

‘Who the deuce can they be,’ said 
Blodget, who rode on one side of Mont- 
eagle, to Jimmy, who rode on the other 
side. 

‘ It’s more nor I can concaive,’ replied 
Jimmy. 

‘ They can’t be police, nor even the 
vigilance committee, or why come from 
the Mission instead of the city?’ said 
Blodget. 

I They surely can’t be a pleasure party,’ 

; rcpl’ed Jimmy For the hunstman of 


02 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


Howth, that followed a hare to h — 1, 
wouldn't gallop over those sand hills for 
fun.’ 

‘ And most certainly not at such an 
hour/ paid Blodget. ^ ’Tis very, very 
strange. They still follow us,’ he con- 
tinued, as he turned in the saddle, and 
looked back at the approaching party. 

By this time they had gained the road 
that — running almost parrallel with the 
shore of the Bay — passed the Presidio, 
and went on toward the rugged promon- 
tory which forms one side of the famous 
Golden Gate. 

For a few moments they proceeded on 
in silence ; occasionally glancing back to 
see if the party that so alarmed them, 
continued the pursuit. What they had 
thus far feared was soon turned to cer- 
tainty, for they saw the whole party, num- 
bering nearly a dozen, emerge from the 
shrubbery, turn into the road, and follow 
after them at a good round pace. 

‘ As long as we keep this distance from 
them, don’t force your horses, and we may 
yet contrive to escape them. Their nags 
must be pretty well blown, as they had a 
long ride before they reached the hut; and 
ours started fresh, after a good long rest,’ 
said Blodget to his companions. 

Leaving the gang of thieves to pursue 
their way, let us return to Inez and the 
party accompanying her. 

‘ They have all left the hut,’ said San- 
chez, as they drew near it, ‘ and I think 
that is the young American, between the 
two that ride in advance of the party.’ 

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, let us spur on, 
and save him." Who knows what bloody 
purpose is in their cruel hearts !’ cried 
Inez.’ 

‘ We must spare our horses over this 
uneven ground, if we hope to catch the 
villians,’ replied Joaquin. 


‘ Be it as you say,’ rejoined the maiden, 
reluctantly checking her eager steed who 
seemed impatient to leap forward. 

While these conversations were pro* 
ceeding, both parties had reached a fine 
piece of level ground that stretched away 
before them in the direction of the 
Presidio. 

‘ Now,’ cried Joaquin, ^ urge your hor- 
ses to the utmost !’ and suiting the action 
to the words, his long spurs were buried 
into the side of his charger, who bounde ^ 
forward like lightning. 

Keeping leap for^leap with his fleet 
steed was the gallant animal that bore^ 
Inez on his back, while the rest of the 
party were but a few rods in the rear. 

The vigilant Blodget soon observed that 
the pursuers had increased their speed, 
and were fast lessening the distance be- 
tween them. 

^ Let your horses do their d est ! 

cried the profane fellow, as he struck the 
rowels deep into the already bleeding 
sides of his courser 

His followers quickly obeyed his com- 
mands, and the pursuers and the pursued 
were soon scouring over the plain, at the 
very utmost speed of their respective hor- 
ses. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


63 


CHAPTER X. 

The Chase Continued, 

Inez and Joaquin had now arrived al- 
most within pistol-shot of the gang, which 
had concentrated around Monteagle. 

‘ They’ll catch us sure, if we don’t cast 
this fellow adrift,’ said one of the party. 

* He’ll never live to see one of us hung, 
at any rate,’ said Jimmy, drawing a re- 
volver, and raising it towards Montea- 
gle’s head. 

‘ Liar !’ shouted Joaquin, as he rais- 
ed himself in his stirrups, and cast his 
lasso, which had been for some seconds 
whirling round his head. 

Before Jimmy had time to touch the 
trigger the unerring noose was fast around 
his neck. Joaquin’s horse halted sudden- 
ly, bringing Jimmy to the earth with 
such violence, as to break his neck. 

‘ Don’t mind, Jimmy, but spur for 
your lives,’ cried Blodget, as he urged 
on his own steed, and that to which 
Monteagle was lashed. Maretzo instant- 
ly taking the place just before occupied 
by Jimmy. 

The lassoing of Jimmy necessarily 
caused some delay to the pursuing party, 
which the pursued made good use of to 
increase the distance between them. 

Joaquin sprang from his horse to dis- 
engage his lasso from the neck of the 
fallen man, and in turning the body for 
that purpose, brought the face of the vil- 
lain into the full light of the moon. 

‘Holy Virgin, Thanks, thanks. A 
golden candlestick shall grace your 
shrine,’ and his eye sparkled, and a gleam 
of joy shot over his swarthy visage. 

‘ Gracious Heavens !’ exclaimed Inez. 

‘ Why Joaquin, though the holy saints 
know how thankful I am that your skil- 


ful arm saved the life of my dear preser- 
ver, still I cannot conceive why you can 
take such pleasure in looking upon such 
: an awful sight as the face of that wretch- 
ed man,’ and Inez turned her face aside 
sickened to the very heart. 

‘My gracious young donna,’ replied 
the robber, ‘ too seldom have I prayed 
to the holy saints, and to the still holier 
ones. But of late I have thrown myself 
before every crucifix I saw and with tears 
begged that the ravishers of Carmencit- 
to should fall by this hand, and this hand 
only. And the holy saints have heard 
my prayers.’ As he spoke, he drew a 
long sharp blade from its sheath, and 
plunged it to the hilt in the still warm 
breast of his prostrate foe. ‘And now, fair 
lady,’ he exclaimed, ‘once again I am at 
your service.’ 

‘ Let us ride like the wind, Joaquin,’ 
said Inez impatiently. 

Joaquin was in his saddle, and his 
horse at full speed in an instant. 

But the few moments that had elapsed 
had sufficed for Blodget and his troop to 
be almost out of sight. 

‘ They will surely escape us, ’ cried the 
maiden. 

‘ No donna,’ said Sanchez respectfully. 

‘ They have turned down to the beach, 
and before they ride a quarter of a mile 
they will reach a rock that runs out into 
the sea, round which they cannot pass 
but at low tide, and even then with 
great risk.’ 

While Sanchez was speaking. Blood- 
get and his comrades had reached the 
point alluded to. 

‘ By G — d,’ cried Blodget, ‘ here we 
are, brought up, all standing,’ as he 
reined his horse, and gazed angrily up- 
on the white breakers that dashed against 
the base of the high and jagged rock. 


64 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


‘ This tliat you fear will ruin us, will 
prove our safety/ said Maretzo. ‘ I 
know this spot well Though close at 
the foot of the cliff the water is deep, a 
little way farther out, it is comparatively 
shoal, and the blue water will hardly 
reach our horses girths, though the foam 
and spray of the breakers may dash over 
our heads. Follow me closely, deviate 
not a single inch right or left, and my 
life for it, I’ll bring you safely through.’ 

So speaking, Maretzo, taking the horse 
of Monteagle by the bridle, rode fear- 
lessly into the seet^hing and foaming 
cauldron that roared around the project- 
ing rocks. 

He was followed by Blodget and the 
rest of the party, and though the stout- 
est of them quailed when the tumbling 
waves reached their knees, and the cold 
spray dashed blindingly in their eyes, 
yet they continued on, seeing that the 
steeds of Maretzo and Monteagle kept 
their footing in the yeasty waves. 

When Inez and her friends reached 
the point around which Monteagle had 
disappeared with his' capturers, their 
first impulse was to follow, but J oaquin 
commanded his party to halt, till he first 
attempted the dangerous passage. Inez, 
however, refusing to let him risk the at- 
tempt alone, spurred her steed and dash- 
ed boldly into the roaring and foaming 
waters with him. 

They naturally kept as close to the 
face of the cliff as possible, supposing 
they would there find the shoalest water, 
but before they had proceeded many 
paces the horse rode by Inez began to 
plunge and rear franticly, frightened by 
the noise and dash of the waves. The 
maiden lost all control of the terrified 
animal, when Joaquin, seeing her peril 
seized the rein of her steed, and by a 


sudden and powerful jerk turned his 
head in the direction of the shore they 
had just left, where he quickly regained 
sure footing. 

‘ Donna Inez,’ said the robber, ‘ to pass 
here is impossible. Either those fellows 
know some secret ford around this rock, 
or else the tide has risen unusually fast 
since they passed. At all events we 
cannot follow them. The tide is rising 
and it will be many hours before it will 
be possible to pass here. Before that 
time they will be beyond our reach.’ 

‘ Cannot we ascend these cliffs, and 
thus cut them off,’ said Inez. 

‘No, donna,’ replied Sanchez, ‘we 
must go back for a long distance before 
we meet with a place which even a rab- 
bit could get up.’ 

Reluctantly Inez admitted the force of 
these remarks, and slowly turned her 
horse’s head in the direction of the city. 

‘ They have some motive, beside mur- 
der, in going to all this trouble, else had 
they killed him when they st met him.’ 

‘ What motive could they have T ask- 
ed Inez. 

‘ Perhaps, to keep him concealed, un- 
til they could obtain a heavy lansom for 
his release.’ 

* But from whom could they expect 
such a ransom ; for the youth is neither 
rich himself nor has he rich relatives, at 
least not in this country.’ 

‘ May not some of the desperadoes 
with which the city abounds, have heard 
of the gallant manner in which the youth 
rescued you from the flames, and trust 
to, obtain from the generosity of your 
father a round sum for the ransom of 
the savior of his daughter. 

Inez admitted the plausibility of this 
supposition, and inwardly resolving that 
all her own and her father’s wealth 


65 


OF SAN FEANCISCO. 


should be expended, if necessary, to re- 
lease Monteagle, she silently rode to- 
wards ho me 

When Maretzo, leading the horse of 
Monteagle, and his comrades, had safely 
passed around the cliff, they found them- 
selves on a clear, crescent-shaped beach 
of some extent, the opposite end of which 
was bounded by a rocky headland, simi- 
lar somewhat to the one they had just 
rounded, but still farther overhanging 
the flood that dashed into foam against 
the huge fragments strewed at its base. 

‘We are now safe from pursuit,’ said 
Maretzo. ‘ Even I, would not venture 
to retrace our steps, now that the tide 
has risen so much.’ 

‘ Well, old fellow, we had a d — d tight 
squeeze of it, that’s a fact. I thought 
at one time we were all going to a place 
where you wouldn’t have to spend much 
for fuel for your furnace, eh, Maretzo V 

The Italian merely made some stale 
joke about the improbability of Blod- 
get’s ever dying by water while there 
was any rope in the world. 

‘ How far yet to this cavern ?• inquir- 
ed Blodget. 

• It’s under yonder head V was the re- 
ply of the Italian, as the party moved 
forward. 

‘ But, deuce take it,’ said Blodget, ‘we 
shall perish of cold and hunger before 
morning. I’ve got a touch of the ‘chills’ 
already.’ 

‘ As to the cold, the beach is strewn 
with drift wood, and we can soon have 
a fire,’ said Maretzo. 

‘ But is the beach strewn with provi- 
sions asked Blodget. 

‘ I have provisions for a month in the 
cave,’ said Maretzo. 

* Come, come, old boss, — none of that 


Robinson Crusoe gammon. It’s bad 
fooling with a hungry man.’ 

‘I’ll explain to you. During the last 
great fire, I happened to be near the 
end of Long Wharf. A lighter full of 
goods had just been made fast. All the 
hands rushed up the wharf, probably to 
assist in putting out the fire. They 
hadn’t stopped even to lower the sail of 
their boat. The temptation was too 
strong. I leaped on board, set the sail, 
and was flying before a stiff breeze right 
for this cove, where I beached her. Her 
cargo, instead of rich goods, as I had 
hoped,proved to be provisions of different 
kinds, packed in tins. These I carried 
to the cave. That night it blew hard, 
and the lighter went to pieces. But, 
here we are at our journey’s end.’ So 
saying, Maretzo, again taking the lead, 
went boldly in among the breakers. — 
Blodget followed, leading the horse of the 
young man, and the remainder of the par 
ty brought up the rear. For a few mo- 
ments, they proceeded on ; now turning 
to the right hand, now to the left, to 
avoid some vast rock that blocked their 
way, or to escape falling into some hole in 
the bottom. The water meanwhile was 
at times so deep that the horses barely 
kept their footing, and their riders found 
great difficulty in making them proceed 
amid the dashing breakers and the hor- 
rid din. 

Maretzo, at length, turned sharply to 
the left, and the next moment the whole 
party wera in utter darkness, in a vast 
cave, through which they could hear the 
wind soughing and the roar of t e sea re- 
verberating. 

‘Stand fast, where you are, till I get a 
light,’ said Maretzo, and dismounting, he 
groped about until his hand rested upon 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


6b 


a box of candleS) part of the cargo of the 
lighter. Half a dozen of them were soon 
burniug, and by their glimmer the party 
fastened their jaded horses. 

Monteagle was released from his Ma- 
zeppa-like bonds, and placed on the floor 
of the cave, more dead than alive from the 
cruel way in which he had been tortured 
and afterwards lashed to the horse. 

A roaring fire was soon kindled, and 
by its lurid flames the party could see the 
vast sizeDf the cavern. Maretzo pointed 
out where the provisions were stowed, and 
each man bountifully helped himself, and 
then they all assembled around the bla- 
zing fire. 

One of the gang less unfeeling than the 
others, gave Monteagle a biscuit, and a 
drink out of his flask, which tended to re- 
lieve him somewhat. 

‘ What think you, Maretzo,’ said Blod- 
get, drawing the Italian aside, after they 
had recovered from their fatigue, ‘ is there 
any more use wasting our time with this 
chap V 

‘I fear not,’ replied Maretzo. ‘ He is 
now so weak that he would probably 
faint under any fresh torture, and insen- 
sibility would baffle us.’ 

‘Then we must be off. Brown was 
to try to find out, by some other means, 
where the money was placed, and if he 
has succeeded, we must be on hand be- 
fore daylight to get hold of it. For the 
absence of Monteagle may excite sus- 
picion, and our sport be spoiled.’ 

‘ What shall we do with our prisoner. 
Knock him on the head, and give the 
crabs a feast?’ 

‘ No. Brown has some old scores to 
settle with him. You had better stay 
here to-night with him, and in the morn- 
ing I’ll ride out here and report pro- 
gress. 


‘ Be it as you say. I shall not be sor- 
ry to have a few hours rest,’ said Mar* 
etzo. 

‘ But how are we to get out of this 
trap ?’ 

‘ You can easily get out of here on the 
side opposite to that by which we enter- 
ed. By following the beach awhile you 
will strike a road that leads over the 
hills to the City. By that road return 
in the morning. 111 be on the look out 
for you !’ 

^ Pick up, boys,’ cried Blodget, and in 
short time they had departed, piloted by 
Maretzo, leaving Monteagle alone in the 
cavern. 

While taking him from the horse ^he 
bandage had been partially removed aom 
his eyes, and he had been a witness of all 
that went on. 

No sooner had they all quitted the 
place than he at once determined to 
make a desperate attempt to escape be- 
fore their return, as he felt that that was 
his only chance. 

Approaching the fire, he seized a piece 
of wood with his teeth and applied the 
blazing end to the cords that bound his 
arms. For some seconds it resisted the 
action of the fire, but at length it blazed, 
and was soon so weakened that with the 
energy of despair the youth snapped it, 
and had his hands again at liberty. He 
next looked around for some weapon, 
and luckily found a hatchet which Mar- 
etzo had used to open the cases. Thus 
armed, he stationed himself at the en- 
trance of the cavern with the determina- 
tion to fell the ruffians to the earth as 
they attempted to enter, and then en- 
deavor to make his escape. In a few mo- 
ments Maretzo appeared and received a 
blow that sent him reeling and senseless 
to the ground, 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


67 


Monteagle waited a few moments, but no 
one else appearing be stepped out of the 
cavern, and fortunately took the direc- 
tion in which the gang had just proceed- 
ed. At times the waves reached his 
arm-pits but by moving forward cautious- 
ly he at length reached the beach safely 


CHAPTER XL 
The Robbery. 

It was about two o’clock of the morn- 
ing following the night in which so many 
events were crowded. The moon had 
gone down, and great masses of black 
clouds completely hid the stars. The 
wind blew violently from seawards, and 
the waves da-hed fnaiously against the 
massive piers which the enterprise of the 
San Franciscans have carried far into the 
bosem of their glorious Bay 

‘Well, if this aint a hell of a night, I’m 
d — d,’ said a powerfully built man, who 
might nave been recognised as Montgom- 
ery had it not been !*o dark that a negro 
could not have been discerned from an 
albino. 

‘ By Vere in ’ell is Blodget a keepin’ 
hisself,’ said his companion, whose un- 
merciful treatment of the v’s and w’s an- 
nounced him to be a genuine Cockney, 
and such he was ; but previous to visit- 
ing California, he had paid Botany Bay 
a flying visit, bis wrists graced with these 
bracelets, so much more useful than or- 
namental. 

These two men were in a large yawl, 
under a wharf near Davis street. 

‘Boat a-hoy !’ cried Blodget, on the 
wharf. 

‘ All right !’ responded Montgomery 
from beneath it. 

‘ Vere*ve you been this jolly long vile,’ 


s id the cockney, as he opened the slide 
of a dark lantern, while Montgomery 
drew the boat along to a place where an 
opening in the planking admitted Blood- 
get’s dropping into the boat. 

‘ Hold her steady,’ said Blodget, as he 
leaped square into the centre of the boat 

‘ Who else is vith ye ?’ said Jobson, the 
Londoner. 

‘ Step down here, Belcher,’ said Blood- 
bet. 

As he spoke a man leaped lightly into 
the boat. To the casual observer there 
was nothing in the appearance of this in- 
dividraal to attract particular attention, 
but one accustomed to guage men’s fig- 
ures by the eje, could not have failed to 
be struck by the broad shoulders, the 
fuii rounded chest, the muscular limbs, 
and the easy grace of every movement 
Pity that a form so full of manliness 
should hold so black a heart. 

‘ Puil straight for the big wooden store, 
at the foot of Sacramento street. Old 

Yandewater, thinking he was d d 

sharp, had the kegs of specie, packed in 
barrels of mackeral by Monteagle and 
put in the old store, thinking some of us 
might hear of the sale of the steamer, 
and break into his store. Brown, to day, 
accidently overheard the carman speak 
of moving some mackerel, and as it tal- 
lyed with the day the money was moved, 
guessed the rest. We can easily get into 
the store.’ continued Bloodget. 

‘ Give way !’ said the man we have 
called Belcher, and at the same moment 
he dipped the blades of a pair of oars in- 
to the water and the yawl flew forward. 

Few words were spoken, although 
there was small chance of their being 
overheard, so loudly howled the gale. 

When they reached the wharf upou 
which stood the store, they proceeded 


68 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


between the piles until all chance of 
their light being observed was destroyed. 
An auger was now produced, a hole bored 
in tha planking, then a sharp well greased 
key-hole saw was introduced and in less 
than a quarter of an hour a hole suffi- 
ciently large to admit a man, was made. 

Belcher Kay easily raised himself by 
his muscular arms into the store ; he 
then assisted Bloodget up The others 
remained in the boat. 

A very few moments sufficed for 
Bloodget and his companion to saw the 
hoops of the mackerel barrels, and thus 
get posession of the boxes of gold. 

They were quickly lowered into the 
boat, and the thieves got safely off with 
their booty. 

‘Veil if old Wandevater don’t svear 
in the morning, 1 hopes I may never see 
old Hingland again.’ cried the patriotic 
Britton as be saw the Golden ballast 
stowed in the bottom of the boat. 

‘ Pull for Mission creek,’ said Blood- 
get,' they’ll give Sydney Valley an aw- 
ful searching to morrow.’ 

The robbers made good their escape, 
with the thirty thousand dollars in spe- 
cie, that had been so ingeniously hidden 
as Mr. Vandewater supposed. 

Great was the surprise of the worthy 
merchant, when summoned, early in the 
morning, by the storekeeper and inform- 
ed that the store had been entered. — 
‘ But,’ said his informant, ‘ they gained 
nothing by all their trouble, and out of 
spite destroyed the few barrels of macke- 
rel that were brought to the store the 
other day.’ 

‘ Then they have got all the money. — 
Where’s Monteagle ?’ cried Mr. Vande- 
water. 

‘I tried to find him at his lodgings 

O O * 


said the man, ‘ but he had not been at 
home all night, I was told.’ 

At this moment Brown; Mr. V’s part- 
ner, entered, and expressed great surprise 
at the fact of the money being in the store 
of which he had not been informed. ‘ ’Tis 
very remarkable that Monteagle should 
be out all night, the very time of the rob- 
bery. Was Monteagle aware of it being 
concealed in the barrels, and placed in 
the store ?’ continued Brown interroga- 
tively, to Vandewater. 

‘ He is the only person to whom I en- 
trusted the matter. As it was funds 
with which the firm had nothing to do. 
I did not deem it necessary to trouble 
you about the affair. Indeed, it was 
Monteagle that suggested the mode and 
place of concealing the money,’ said Mr. 
Vandewater. 

‘ Why this is the most remarkable set 
of coincidences I ever heard of. A let- 
ter addressed to him, evidently brought 
by that fellow who afterwards stabbed a 
man — he proposes a way and place of 
hiding the money — the money is sto- 
len, and on the very night of its being ta- 
ken, he, Monteagle, is absent a!l night. 
Yet, he may clear himself,’ said Brown. 

‘ It is too clear,’ said Mr. Vandewater 
sorrowfully. ‘ I would have trusted that 
youth with my life^ and feel at this mo- 
ment far less regret for the loss of the 
money than losing all faith in the integ- 
rity of my fellow-men.’ 

‘ We have both, I fear, been greatly 
deceived in Monteagle. Within the last 
few days I have heard that he gambled 
heavily, and was in the constant habit of 
visiting houses of ill-fame,’ remarked 
Brown. 

‘ Well, what steps had we best take in 
regard to this unfortunate affair,* said 
the merchant. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


69 


‘ There are snspicious circumstances 
sufficient to warrant the arrest of Mont- 
eagle/ replied Brown. 

‘Nc — no — I cannot think of that. — 
lie has been misled by others, and though 
I never wish to employ, or even see him 
again, I would not wish him to be arrested. 
So justly indignant are the citizens at 
the numerous robberies and fires that 
have lately taken place, that his convic- 
tion would be closely followed by his ex- 
ecution. The respectability of his posi- 
tion would be no bar to this, for the 
Vigilance Committee have determined to 
make an example of the first man that is 
fairly proven guilty.’ 

‘ Be it as you will, sir,’ said Brown, 
inwardly congratulating himself that in 
this manner all inquiry would be stopped 
with respect to the robbery. 

^ Let nothing more be said about this 
unfortunate affair, Mr. Brown. Let the 
store-keeper’s version .pass as the true 
one — that thieves finding no booty in the 
store, departed after destroying some of 
the goods which were of too little value 
for them to remove.’ 

Leaving Mr. Vandewater to make ar- 
rangements for replacing the stolen mo- 
ney, let us return to Monteagle, who, the 
reader will recollect, we left safe on the 
beach after his escape from the cavern of 
the robbers. 

It was with the greatest difficulty, that 
he continued to drag his wearied limbs 
along over the hills and through the val- 
leys that lay between him and the city, 
and it was late in the morning before he 
appeared at the counting house of his 
employer, who was conversing with his 
partner at the moment. 

‘ And this you think is Monteagle’s 
cap,’ said Vandewater. 

‘ I know it to be his, and saw it on bis 


head last evening, as he passed up Pa- 
cific street,’ responded Brown. 

‘Ah, yes — yes. Too true — too true ! 
Here are his initials, under the lining, in 
his own writing. This destroys my last 
hope of his innocence. And you say it 
was found close by the^hole by which the 
robbers effected an entrance to the store.* 

‘ Yes ; it was banded me by the store- 
keeper. It was evidently dropped in the 
hurry and forgotten when too late. But 
here is the young gentleman himself/ said 
Brown, not a little surprised and ajarm- 
ed at the appearance of Monteagle, whom 
he had supposed safely secured in tht 
cavern. 

‘Mr. Monteagle,’ said Vandewater, in 
a stern voice, slightly tremulous, howev- 
er, with regret, • Your services are no 
are no longer needed in this establish- 
ment, nor do I ever wish you to tread 
upon the thrcshhold of my house again. 
Great God ! what an escape poor Julia 
has had. It was to this man I wished to 
entrust the keeping of your happiness !* 

Before Monteagle could recover from 
his surprise, Brown broke in : ‘ But 

perhaps, after all, Mr. Monteagle will ex- 
plain from whom he received the note 
the other day, and what was the nature 
of the appointment it made. 

Monteagle blushed, hesitated, stam- 
mered but knew not how to reply. — 

‘ This, then,’ thought he, ‘ is the cause ot 
my dismissal. Mr. Vandewater has 
learned of my associating with wantons, 
and justly dismisses mo from his confi- 
dence. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Vandewater who had 
been closely watching him, and with sor- 
row saw what he supposed were convinc- 
ing evidences of Monteagle’s complicity 
in the robbery. Not giving the youth 
time to recover from his confusion, he 


70 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


waved him out of his office with a cool, 
haughty gesture, which roused Montea 
gle’s pride, as he thought that he was 
not worse than thousands of other young 
men. And this feeling of hurt pride was 
greatly increased as he reflected upon the' 
manner in which# he had suffered, the 
previous evening, all but death sooner 
than divulge the secret of this man who 
DOW treated him so ungenerously. Turn- 
ing upon his heel he slowly withdrew 
from the office, and wended his way to 
bis lodging. 


CHAPTER XL 
How Joaquin became a Robber, 

It was one of the loveliest mornings of 
the loveliest of seasons in California — 
early summer — when two equestrians 
might have been seen cantering over a 
level plain not far from San Jose. 

‘ Surely, Joaquin, this is the sweetest 
country upon earth,, and we the happiest 
people in it,’ said one of the riders, a 
young girl of some seventeen summers. 
As she spoke the glance of her dark lus- 
trous eyes rested lovingly upon the face 
of the noble-looking man that rode beside 
her, and whose passionate gaze of admi- 
ration told how ardently he loved, nay, 
worshipped his beautiful companion. — 
And worthy, right worthy was she of all 
the love of his passionate nature ; for sel- 
dom hag a more bewitching form graced 
the earth with its presence, than, that of 
Carmencitto; who had but a few days be- 
ft)re become the wife of the youth. 

Joaquin was the proprietor of a small 
ranch, a portion of which they were now 


riding over. He was gifted by nature 
with a muscular form, and was reputed to 
be the most daring rider, and the most 
skilful herdsman in the country. Car- 
mencitto was the daughter of a wealthy 
Californian, and had been engaged to 
Joaquin from childhood. 

‘ You say truly, dearest,’ replied the 
horseman. ‘ Ours is a goodly land, and 
it needed not that its rivers should roll 
over sands of gold to make us love it.’ 

They were just passing a clump of 
dense shrubbery as he spoke, and hardly 
had the last word left his lips ere his 
spirited steed reared, and had he not 
been a matchless rider, he must have 
been hurled headlong from the saddle. 
As it was, before he fully recovered his 
seat, a lariat was thrown over his head, 
and his arms firmly secured to his side. 
While two men, armed with revolvers, 
held his horse firmly by the reins — their 
weapons pointed at his breast. 

‘ Make a single attempt to escape, 
and we’ll riddle your carcase with bul- 
lets,’ shouted one of his assailants. 

‘Shoot the d — d greaser, at once’t,’ 
cried a low-browed, villainous looking 
fellow. 

‘ Curse the yellar skinned devil, I be- 
leive he’s glued to the saddle,’ said the 
first speaker as he tried in vain to pull 
J oaquin from his seat, the latter mean- 
while urging his horse forward but in vain, 
so firmly was he held by the man who had 
seized his horse by the head. 

The assault had been so unexpected 
that for a brief instant the . young Cali- 
fornian had forgotten Carmencitto, but 
now a wild piercing shriek recalled her 
to his mind, and turning round he be- 
held her dragged from her horse to the 
earth. His arms were bound, but his 
feet were at liberty, and he dashed his 


OF SAN FBANCISCO. 


71 


heavy hoots into the face of the men who 
held his steed. But the same moment a 
brace of bullets whizzed through the air, 
and after a few convulsive clutches the 
young man fell heavily to the earth. 

Leaving him, where he had fallen, the 
men rushed to the assistance of the fel- 
low who had dragged the lady from her 
steed. 

* For God’s sake, gentlemen, don’t kill 
Joaquin. He has never injured you.* 

‘ Don’t fret, honey, tisn’t Joe Quin 
we’re after. Tis your own elegant self,’ 
said one of the ruffians, 

‘ So, you d — d stuck-up thing, you 
wouldn’t dance with me at your outland- 
ish fandango, the other night. Now, my 
lady, you shall dance to other music 
and as he spoke he seized her brutally, 
and inflicted several fierce kisses upon 
her reluctant lips. Fired by her charms 
and her resi^nce, the villain was pro- 
ceeding to further outrage, when, all her 
woman’s nature flashing from her indig- 
nant eyes, she drew a small tbin-bladed 
stiletto, and sent it’s bright blade straight 
to the heart of the ravisher. For a mo- 
ment, and but for a moment, the villains 
were appalled at this prompt and terri- 
ble retribution. But even the thought of 
their guilty comrade hurried out of the 
world in the very act of perpetrating the 
most henious offence, could not make 
them pause in their infernal intentions, 
for seizing the hapless woman, now be- 
come insensible, they bore her into -a 
clump of bushes from which they had 
sprung upon Joaquin and his bride. 

Hours after, when Joaquin returned to 
consciousness', he found himself bound 
liand and foot^ with strips of green hide. 
His horse and that of Carmencitto both 
gone. 

Joaquin^s first impulse was to call 


aloud upon the name of his young wife. 
But all was silent. ‘ Holy Virgin !’ he 
exclaimed, as recollection began fully to 
return to him. ‘ Where art thou, Car- 
mencitto V he shouted. A low, faint 
moaning was heard in the neighboring 
shrubbery. Again, "und again, the wretch- 
ed youth called loudly on Carmencitto. 
But the only replies he received were 
the faint meanings, which his foreboding 
heart, rather than his ear, told him came 
from the lips of Carmencitto. His sus- 
pense became insupportable. He would 
— he must — learn all. Even though 
that all confirmed a horrid suspicion that 
chilled the blood to very his heart. 

With the fierceness of a starving cay- 
ote he gnawed the green hide that con- 
fined his arms, and they once released 
he soon entirely disengaged himself He 
sprang to^ his feet, and rushed in the 
direction from whence the sounds of dis- 
tress proceeded. Better had he been 
smitten with eternal blindness than ever 
have gazed upon that sad, sad spectacle. 

Carmencitto lay almost sensless upon 
the grass. Her modest garments torn to 
shreds, exposed her fair young bosom, 
slowly heaving, as if with the latest sobs 
of expiring life. Her cheeks were color- 
less. Her lips white as chalk, except 
where they were dabbled with the crim- 
on blood, that was slowly oozing at every 
respiration of her heaving breast ! In 
one of her little pale hands she clutched 
a small gold crucifix, which the villains 
had overlooked in their lust or haste. 

As Joaquin burst through the thick- 
et and stood before her,, the closed lids 
of her black eyes slowly opened, and she 
cast one look full of love and sorrow up- 
on her heT?rt-broken husband. 

Tearing his black locks he flung him- 
self on his knees by her side, and tender- 
ly raising her, he pressed her to his heart 


72 


MYSTERIES AJ^D MISERIES 


and while he wiped the blood from her 
lips, his tears fell thick and fast upon her 
upturned face. 

‘ Speak to me, oh ! speak to me, Carm* 
encitto. My life ! My love ! Speak ! 
Oh, Grod, what have I done to deserve 
this ? Speak, dearest Carmeucitto,’ and 
he pressed the form of his young wife 
again and again close to his heart. Eut 
no reply came from those dear lips. 

‘ Near at hand ran a babbling rivulet, 
to this Joaquin rushed, and scooping out 
some water in the hollow of his joined 
hands, laved with it the face of Carmen- 
oitto. But all in vain. Life had forev- 
er left that darling form, dearer to him 
than all the gold that strews the placers 
of his native land. 

When Joaquin became certain that she 
was indeed dead, his grief at* first found 
vent in the most pathetic lamentations ; 
but suddenly pausing, he dashed the tear- 
drops from his eyes, and drawing a dag- 
ger from its sheath, he swore upon its 
cross-hilt eternal vengeance on the ravish- 
ers and murderers of his Carmencitto. 

Then decently arranging her disorder- 
ed garments, he lifted her sacred form 
in his arms, and bore it to his home — 
henceforth forever desolate. 

From the hour in which he saw the 
rude tomb raised over the ashes of his 
murdered wife, Joaquin left forever the 
home that promised to be such a happy 
one, and went forth an altered, man. 
The crucifix of poor Carmencitto on his 
heart — revenge rankling in it. 

From that time strange rumors began 
to circulate through California of daring 
robberies and frequent murders, and al- 
though no proofs of the guilty party could 
be obtained ; yet when men spoke of them 
their pale lips almost involuntarily mut- 
tered ^ Joaquin P 


When Inez returned to her father’s 
residence at the Mission, her first resolve 
was to acquaint her parent with the cir- 
cumstances, but she found that he had 
been hastily summoned to a place at some 
distance, in consequence of a dispute be- 
tween one of his tenants and a squatter. 

Joaquin, whose advice she asked, re- 
commended that she should wait the com- 
ing of morning, when if Monteagle was 
not liberated, the authorities should be 
informed of the matter, and by their in- 
terference his liberation would no doubt 
easily be effected. But Joaquin had his 
own private reasons for not visiting the . 
city. 

In the morning Inez accordingly rode 
to the city, and almost the first person 
she q)assed was Monteagle, who was just 
then repairing to the store of Mr. Yan- 
dewater. Of course there was no occa- 
sion for Inez to interfere farther in the 
matter. Her first impulse was to ride 
up to him and congratulate him on his 
escape, but maidenly pride checked her, 
and she proceeded on, leaving Monteagle 
in entire ignorance of the ’deep interest 
she felt in his fortunes, and of the efforts 
she had made to rescue him the previous 
evening. 

Monteagle, meanwhile,- sought his home 
to take a few hours rest, for both mind 
and body were terribly racked by the 
sufferings he bad undergone. 

The day after the robbery of Mr. Van- 
debater’s store, a group of some half-doz- 
en men were assembled around a fine fire 
kindled on the ground, in the midst of a 
dense thicket, at the foot of the moun- 
tains, on the Contra Costa side of the 
of the Bay of San Francisco. 

‘ He’s a daring young devil, and with 
pluck, quickness, and a little science, I’m 
d — d if I don’t think he could whip any- 
thing of his weight in the world.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


73 


This remark was made by BelchcrKay 
to Blodget, as Maretzo, who was one of 
the party, finished narration of Montea- 
gle’s assault upon him, and his conse- 
quent escape. 

‘Curse his pluck, and your science 
Belcher. If ever I draw trigger on eith- 
er of you all your science wouldn’t save 
you from a quick trip to ‘kingdom come. 
But, the deuce take it, I dare not show 
my face in the city ; for Monteagle will 
surely denounce me to that devilish Vig- 
ilance Committee, and then my fun’s up,’ 
said Blodget. 

‘Well, old fellow/ said Kay, ‘I’ll see 
that you’re well suplied with everything 
needful, till this thing blows over. You 
stay out here and make yourself comfort- 
able. If we could only get this Montea- 
gle out of the way, all would go right. 
I’or from what. Maretzo learned in the 
city, none of us are suspected except you, 
and you only because you kept Montea- 
gle’s company. Well, if thataint a good 
*un. Fm blowed,’ continued Belcher Kay, 
laughing heartily at the idea of Montea- 
gle’s leading Blodget astray. 

‘ I am this Monteagle’s debtor for that 
blow he gave me,’ said Maretzo, and his 
dark eyes flashed with vindictive hate. 

‘ ril get him out of the way.’ 

‘ Have a care, Maretzo, that knife of 
yours will bring us all into trouble some 
of those days,’ said Blodget. 

‘ This time it will not be the knife, but 
something even surer still’ and as he 
spoke, he exhibited a small bottle. ‘ A 
drop from this vial, and his tongue will 
never harm us again.’ 

‘Well/ said Kay. ‘ We’ll think over 
this matter. But just now let’s split the 
swag.’ 

And forthwith the thieves proceeded 


to apportion out the thirty thousand 
dollars equitably between them, not for- 
getting a share for some who were absent 
but who belonged to the gang, and were 
entitled by their rules to a share of the 
plunder obtained in the course of their 
marauding expeditions. 

For some days after Monteagle’s dis- 
missal he was too unwell to leave the 
house, but when he was sufficiently recov- 
ered to walk the street, he was surprised 
to find that all his former friends and 
associates either passed him with a slight 
nod of recognition, or gave him the cut 
direct. He was entirely at a loss to ac- 
count for their conduct. Being out of a 
situation was not such an unusual thing 
in San Francisco, as to make a man’s 
friends shun him. Nor could it be the 
fear that he might be transformed from 
a lender to a borrower, for no where are 
men more ready to assist a friend or 
even a stranger than in this country. 
Monteagle was not aware that from cer- 
tain vague hints which Brown contrived 
to set afloat respecting the robbery that 
Monteagle’s name was in some manner 
mixed up in the afi’uir. The very indefi- 
niteness of the rumor being the reason of 
its never reaching Mouteagle’s ear. 

So that he who was most deeply inter- 
ested in it, was almost the only ope in the 
whole city who had not heard of the ac- 
cusation. Of course his sudden dismiss- 
al from Mr. Vandewater’s employ gave 
an appearance of truth to the story, 
which was more strongly confirmed by 
Vandewater’s declining to assign any 
cause for Monteagle’s dismissal when 
questioned on the subject. 

Monteagle, whose generous disposition 
but little fitted him for hoarding money, 
was now by his sudden and unexpected 


74 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


loss of employment thrown entirely des- 
titute on the world. 

At first he resolved to depart immedi- 
ately for the mines. Reflection howev- 
er made him abandon this purpose. As 
he was hourly in expectation of a letter 
of credit from his home in the Atlantic 
States, which would place him in posses- 
sion of ample funds, with which it had 
been his intention to buy a share of Mr. 
Vandewater’s business. 

There was another and far more pow- 
erful motive, however that prevailed npon 
the young man to refrain from leaving 
San Francisco. In the hurry of business 
as in the allurements of pleasure one form 
was ever present with him. Need we say 
it was that of the lovely maiden whom 
he had borne in his arms from the de- 
vouring flames. 

Although he avoided meeting Inez 
Castro, and her father, it was not that 
he did not ardently wish to meet with 
her ; but his delicacy shrank from seem 
ing to take advantage of the fact that he 
had conferred so great an obligation on 
them, and he feared that gratitude would 
induce Inez to betray a preference for 
him which he would fain owe to love 
alone. 

One evening soon after Monteagle’s 
- discharge from employment, and after all 
attempts to procure a situation had pro- 
ved futile, he wandered about the streets 
in that sad, dejected mood which comes 
over one, when friendless and moneyless 
in a great city. 

Following a large crowd, he found 
himself in an extensive bookstore adjoin- 
ing^ the Post Office. This was the gene- 
ral rendezvous of merchants, and others, 
while awaiting the tardy operations of 
Uncle Sam’s officials. Huge stacks of 
daily, weekly, and ‘ California edition’ pa- 


pers were rapidly disappearing in sup- 
plying the clamorous demands of the ea- 
ger throng anxious to hear from ‘ the old 
folks at home.’ 

Monteagle moved among them like a 
perfect stranger. He felt as though a 
brand was upon him ; but the reason was 
to him a perfect mystery. Every eye, 
however open and direct its glance for 
others, became cold and averted when it 
met his. 

He was about turning to leave the store, 
his sad feeling legibly expressed on his 
fine features, when he felt a hand upon 
his shoulder and turning quickly he con- 
fronted Mr G , one of the proprie- 

tors. 

^Ah, good night, Monteagle. Here's 
your Herald, and the rest of your papers.’ 

‘ Thank you, Mr. G , but,’ and 

Monteagle lowered his tone, while his 
cheek was flushed, ‘ I’ll come in again — 
in fact — I’m penniless. 

‘ Never mind that,’ replied the book- 
seller. ^ Here take the papers,’ and as 
he spoke, he slipped a twenty dollar 
piece into his hand. 

‘ Thank you — thank you,' cried the 
grateful youth. ‘I expect a remittance 
from home to-morrow, and then I will re- 
pay you.’ 

' But had Monteagle seen the expression 
of the bookseller’s manly face, he would 
have known that he was repaid already 
His own noble heart approved the gene- 
rous, and with him by no means unusual 
act. 

On the morning succeeding, Monteagle 
had early taken bis place in the Post Of- 
fice line, (as extensive as that of Ban quo's 
issue which flitted before the eyes of the 
Scottish regicide.) awaiting the delivery 
of their letters. 

This line is one of the most singular 
sights in the world, composed not only of 


OF SAN FRANCISCO, 


75 


rfifresentatives from every section of our 
own country, but from almost every na- 
tion on the face of the globe. 

Monteagle was disappointed. There 
was no letter for him. 

Only those who have been thousands 
and thousands of miles away from home, 
can understand the full effect of this 
crushing disappointment. Instantly the 
mindconjures up many-dismal reasons as 
the cause of the non-arrival of the expec- 
ted letters. What can be the matter. — 
Have our friends forgotten us, has sick- 
ness wasted the hand that used to seize 
the pen with such avidity to tell us all 
the warm feelings the writers enter- 
tained for us. Or has death forever still- 
ed the beatings of those hearts we dearly 
loved ? 

Months we know must elapse ere these 
questions can have a response, and in the 
meanwhile we must experience all the 
bitterness of hope deferred. 

' Monteagle left the Office almost envy- 
ing the lucky ones who were tearing the 
envelopes from the missives they had re- 
ceived and with eager eyes scanning the 
lines. But could Monteagle have nar- 
rowly watched the different readers, he 
would have seen that in the majority of 
instances the letters brought news that 
had better never reached the recipients. 
Here a splendid looking fellow, the very 
embodiment of manly beauty, read a let- 
ter that informed him that the girl, in 
hopes of wedding whom he had left home 
to win a fortune in California, had been 
married to a man with no other recom- 
mendation than a hundred thousand dol- 
lars. There might be seen a stalwart 
man, his rough cheek blanched and the 
tears gushing from his eyes, as he read 
that his only daughter — the cherished 
idol of his affections, had gone to the nar- 


row house, appointed for all the liv- 
ing. But we need not pursue the theme, 
any one who has noticed attentive- 
ly the Mine’ we speak of has seen 
matter for much and melancholy medita- 
tion, even if he has been fortunate enough 
to experience none of those bitter disap- 
pointments himself. 

Belcher Kay and his fellow-rogues 
soon expended the money they obtained 
by the robbery of Yamdewater’s store in 
riotous living. So a new crime was de- 
termined on. 

But it was necessary that he should be 
quick in his plans, for his means were 
daily becoming more limited, and he was 
well aware that success depended in a 
great measure upon promptitude. But 
what was he to do when his pecuniary 
resources were entirely exhausted.’ 

This was a troublesome thought, and 
one which he was unable for some time 
to answer satisfactorily in his own mind. 
Money he must have by some means 
or another, or he would not have it in 
his power to carry on his nefarious pro- 
jects with any chance of success, and the 
bare idea of being reduced to poverty, af- 
ter the life of indolence, luxury, and ex- 
travagance he had led, made the villain 
shrink with dread. No — no — such a fate 
must not be his, and he determined to 
avoid it, even if the means he should have 
to adopt in doing so, he should have been 
compelled to adopt the most desperate 
and dangerous schemes. 

From any crime, however revolting, it 
might be, it has been very clearly shewn 
to the reader that Kay would not shrink; 
and, after deliberating for a short time 
within himself what was next to be done, 
he at last came to the determination of 
going for a few nights on the highway, 
and thus trying his fortune. If in adop- 


76 


l^IYSTEETES AND MISERIES 


ting this guilty resolution, the villain 
should have to perpetrate murder, he 
would not have foreborne to do it, soon- 
er than he would have been disappointed 
of his object. 

Accordingly, on the following night, af 
ter he had come to this resolution, Kay, 
well armed, secretly quitted the hotel 
where he was lodging, and took his way 
to a lonely road, that led to the Mis- 
sion, which was, notwithstanding, much 
frequented Here he secreted himself, 
and eagerly watched the approach of 
some traveller who might possess the 
means about him of satisfying his wants. 

Belcher had taken good care to 
strengthen his determination by drinking 
deeply, before he started on his guilty 
purpose, and he now felt fully prepared 
for whatever might happen. Money he 
had made up his mind he would have at 
all hazards, and therefore it was not a tri- 
fle that was at all likely to moye him 
from his purpose. 

The place which Kay had chosen to 
conceal himself, was just at the entrance 
of a dark and dismal lane, which branch- 
ed off the road, and was a very conveni- 
ent place for the perpetration of a deed 
like that he contemplated. 

Here then he seated himself upon the 
ground, where he could have a distinct 
view of the road for some distance, and 
every person that approached. 

It was a very fine night ; the moon 
shone brightly in the heavenly arch, and 
countless myriads of stars added their 
twinkling lustre to her radiant beams. 

Kay sat there for some time in a state 
of apathy, his thoughts wandered to no 
particular objects, but still his mind in- 
tent upon the desperate crime he had re- 
solved to perpetrate if the opportunity 
should be afforded him 


At last, however, becoming impatient, 
and feeling rather cold, for the night air 
was keen, he arose, and walked for some 
distance 'along the road, taking care to 
keep close to the bushes, that separated 
it from the adjoining fields, and where 
he was less likely to be observed. 

In the course of a conversation which 
Belcher had overheard between the land- 
lord of the hotel and his wife af-- 
ter they had retired to bed, (for they 
slept in the next chamber to him, and 
the rooms only being parted by a very 
slight partition of canvas, he could hear 
every word they uttered,) he had learnt 
that a drover, who invariably called at 
their house, and who usually had a large 
sum of money about him, was expected 
there that day, and he was also enabled 
to ascertain that this was the road he al- 
ways came ; but be could not think of 
making an attempt to commt a robbery 
in the open daylight, and when his detec- 
tion would be almost certain to follow, 
and thus his nefarious wishes would be 
foiled. But then, as he understood that 
the drover usually slept at the hotel, the 
villain thought there might still be a 
chance left of bis being enabled to rob 
him in the night. 

This, however, would be attended with 
considerable danger, for suspicion would, 
in all probability, light upon him, and 
should he abandon the place, it would, 
undoubtedly, be a direct confirmation of 
bis guilt, and would put him to great in 
convenience in having to quit the neigh- 
bourhood. 

Reflecting therefore, in this manner, 
Kay was constrained to give up all 
thoughts of plundering the drover, al- 
though it was with much reluctance that 
he did so, for he had no doubt but that 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


77 


lie should from him have been sure to 
have got a very rich booty. 

The day which succeeded the night 
on which Kay had overheard the conver- 
sation we have spoken of, was passed by 
him in a state of great agitation and un- 
certainty, and at one time he would de- 
termine upon some daring scheme, which 
the next moment would make him aband- 
on all idea of. 

The drover, however, did not come to 
the house that day, but Kay gathered 
from the conversation of his host, that 
he would sure to be there that night, so 
that he might be in time for the market 
on the following morning. Kay caught 
at this information, and his hopes once 
more revived ; he resolved to lay wait for 
him, and make a desperate attempt to 
rob him as he had at first designed. 

Kay was no coward, as that which has 
been already related, will fully prove, 
and he was, therefore, prepared for any 
resistance which his marked victim might 
make, and be had made up his mind not 
to be defeated easily. But from what 
he could learn, the drover was an old 
man, and one who was not very likely to 
offer much resistance, especially when he 
saw that the individual who attacked 
him was well armed, and a determined 
man, and, therefore, Kay calculated that 
his success was almost cerrtain. . 

He had taken the precaution to pro- 
vide himself with a mask and poncho, so 
that he might be fully enabled to dis- 
guise himself, and these were the more 
indispensable for the villain’s safety, as 
he intended to return to the hotel after 
the perpetration of the robbery. 

Impatient and gloomy, Kay continued 
to traverse the road for some time, but 
still he saw no signs of the traveller or 
of any other person, and ho began to des- 


pair. The place was sufficiently quiet 
and lonely to inspire no very pleasant re- 
flections in the mind of Kay,, and so rap- 
idly did they crowd upon his brain, that 
he had not strength to endure them, and 
he almost made up his mind to abandon 
his villainous project, and return to the 
hotel to seek that society which might 
alone banish such fearful thoughts. 

At length the solemn booming of the 
Mission bell vibrated on the air, toll- 
ing the hour of ten, and Kay, whose pa- 
tience was now quite tired ouf, and who.se 
disappointment could only be equalled 
by chagrin, resolved to wait no longer 
but to return to the hoteL 

He had just turned round for that pur- 
pose, when the low trampling of horses’ 
hoofo, at a distance, arrested his purpose 
and rekindled his hopes. 

The- sounds proceeded from behind 
him, and looking eagerly along the road 
as far as his eyes could penetrate, at first 
he could not perceive anything, but at 
length he beheld a horse trotting slowly 
along the road, in the direction of the 
place where be was standing, and bearing 
on bis back a person who he was unable 
at present, to observe, distinctly. 

‘ It must be him !’ muttered Kay to 
himself, and hope once more elated and 
nerved him. His mind was fully made 
up ; be would have all the money the gra- 
zier had about him, even, if to obtain it 
he had to embrae bis hand sin his blood. 

Quickly the miscreant glided cautious- 
ly along the darkest and most overshad- 
owed part of* the. road, and he once more 
reached the entrance to the lane which the 
traveller must pass; and which appeared 
to him to be the most convenient spot for 
the perpetration of the deed. 

‘But — but’ — muttered Kay, ‘I will 
not barm him — no — no — I will not harm 
him, if I can avoid it ! I do not want 


78 


MYSTERIES AlYD MISERIES 


bis blood, but his money, it will be his 
own fault should he lose his life.’ 

Nearer and nearer the rider approach- 
ed, and at length he had got to within a 
very short distance of the place where 
Kay was concealed, and by the bright 
light of the moon, he was enabled to have 
a distinct view of his person. 

He was a thickset man, about sixty, 
and carried with him a short whip with 
a very heavy handle. He wag whistling 
merrily along the road, apparently, quite 
happy and unsuspicious of any danger, 
and what Kay could perceive of his fea- 
tures, he looked like a man who was not 
likely to be easily intimidated. Again 
he muttered to himself, — • 

‘ I hope ho will resign his money eas- 
ily ; I hope he will not make any resist- 
ance ; I would not have his blood upon 
my conscience, but his money I will 
have.' 

The man had now got to within a very 
short distance of the lane, and Kay had 
no doubt from the description which had 
been given of him, that this was the 
grazier. 

He clenched his fist nervously, and in- 
voluntarily placed his other hand on one 
of the pistols which he carried with him. 

‘ I will let him pass me,’ thought Kay, 
‘I will let him pass me before I pounce 
out upon him, and then I shall take him 
more by surprise, and he will be less 
likely to offer any resistance.’ 

The traveller had now left off whist- 
ling, and had broke into a negro melody, 
which he sang in self-satisfied tones, but 
which were anything but harmonious. 

‘ Your money or your life !’ cried Kay 
in a disguised voice, rushing up to 
the traveller, from his place of conceal 
ment, and laying hold of the horse’s bri- 
dle. 


The old man, was of course, rather 
startled, but he collected himself in a 
moment, and with the utmost coolness, 
said : — 

‘I tells thee what it is, young man, 
your’e on a bad errand, and I advise you 
let go the bridle, and go about your bu- 
siness, before harm come to you.’ 

• There, there, no nonsense,’ replied 
Kay, in an impatient tone ; ‘ I am a des- 
perate man and must have money.’ 

‘D — n you, you are a daring rascal,’ 
cried the traveller, ‘ let go of the bridle, 
or it may not be long ere I make you re- 
pent thy job. Leave go of the bridle, I 
again tell you! You won’t, then, d — n 
me, if I don’t soon make you, and that’s 
all about it.’ 

With these words the traveller flour- 
ished his heavy whip, and aimed a blow 
at the head of Kay with the butt-end of 
it, which if he had not stepped quickly 
aside and avoided would, in all probabil- 
ity have deprived him immediately of far- 
ther power. 

‘ Old idiot 1 cried the enraged ruffian, 
‘ you will urge me to that which I would 
rather avoid ; will you deliver up your 
money, I say, once more ?’ 

‘No,’ promptly replied the old man; 
*I’ll see you d — d first, and all such 
scoundrels.’ 

‘ Then, by h — 11! you will have to pay 
for your obstinacy with your life I’ cried 
Kay, hastily groping about beneath his 
poncho to get out one of the pistols. 

The old man immediately guessed at 
what he was about, and sprang from his 
horse’s back with the agility of a youth, 
and the moment that Kay got out his 
pistol, and before he could cock it, he clo- 
sed with him, and being a strong, power- 
ful man, the struggle threatened to be a 
determined one. 


OF SAN FEANCISCO. 


79 


Kay, however, was wound up to a pitch 
of desperation, for it was a moment of 
life or death, and he was taken somewhat 
by surprise, as, from the age of the trav- 
eller, he had not expected such an antag- 
onist* 

Kay was a very muscular man, and 
_ had youth on his side, and he, of course, 
mustered up all his strength for this oc- 
casion, and endeavoured to get his hands 
at liberty; but the old man had pinned 
them with such an iron grip, that all his 
efforts wei^e ineffectual, and maledictions 
the most terrible escaped his lips, as the 
danger of his situation beeame every in- 
stant greater; for, as his strength de- 
creased, so did that of the traveller ap- 
pear to increase, and he expected noth- 
ing less that he must be overpowered. 

The struggle lasted several minutes, 
the traveller having pinched the hands of 
Kay so tightly, that he wa5 compelled 
to drop the pistol to the ground, and 
which the former was afraid to secure, 
for fear .tha.tjin resigning his hold of tire 
robber, he should lose the advantage 
he had gained. But at length the foot 
of Kay caught in something on the 
ground, and he fell, dragging the old 
man with him. 

Fortunately, the traveller did not fall 
upon him, or his weight would have 
quickly decided the combat, and Kay 
would have been defeated, but he fell by 
his side, and consequently was obliged 
to leave go his hold ; and Kay, seeing 
the moment of advantage, and probably 
the only opportunity of saving his life, 
jumped to his feet with the speed of 
lightning, and snatching the pistol from 
his bosom, he sprang upon the old man, 
knelt upon his chest, — he pressed the fin- 
gers of his other hand tightly in his throat 
until the old man was nearly strangled, he 


presented the pistol at his head as he 
exclaimed — 

‘ You deserve to lose your life for 
your infernal obstinacy, and it is at this 
moment in my power ; but I do not 
wish to harm you if I can help it. Now, 
then, your money.’ 

The old man who was quite overpow- 
ered by the pressure on his chest, and 
the violenee with which Kay pressed his 
knuckles into his throat, he tried to 
speak, but could only make a sign to his 
coat-pocket, which Kay understanding, 
released the old man from the hold which 
he had taken of his throat ; and, putting 
his hand into his pocket, to which he had 
directed his attention, he drew forth a 
a canvass biig apparently well loaded, and 
depositing it carefully in his bosom, he 
secured both the pistols, and, rising from 
the ground, he said to the still prostrate 
traveller — 

‘ Beware ! you see that I have all the 
power of youT life or death in my hands; 
if you move a step to pursue me, until 1 
am out of sight, that instant you die !’ 

The old man did not make any reply, 
for he had not yet recovered from the ef- 
fects of the combat, and was unable to 
utter a word ; and Kay, having satisfied 
himself that he had secured all the mo- 
ney in his possession, hastily retreated 
from the spot, and springing into the 
fields, threw away the poncho, and made 
the best of his way towards the hotel, 
which he reached in an almost inconceiv- 
able short space of time, and, without 
betraying any emotion, entered the bar, 
as was his usual custom, and taking his 
seat called for a mug of ale. 

He had not been there long, when he 
heard a loud shouting and hallooing out- 
sid e the house, and he immediately rec- 
ognized the tones. 

‘ Why,’ said the landlord, laying down 


80 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


his pipe, ' that certainly is the voice of 
a friend; what the deuce can be the 
matter with him?^ 

Kay felt a little alarmed; but he con- 
cealed his agitation, and continued with 
apparent unconcern, to smoke his pipe, 
and to be completely absorbed in the en- 
joyment of that and his ale: He would 
have been glad to have retired to his 
chamber, so that he might have escaped 
all observation, but he was fearful that 
he might, by so doing, probably excite 
suspicion, and he therefore kept his seat 
and pretended to take no notice of what 
was passing. 

The landlord having hastened to the 
door of the house to meet his guest, and 
to enquire what was the matter with him 
was quickly heard returning accompani- 
ed by the old man, who was grumbling, 
and swearing all the way. 

On entering the bar, the drover gazed 
round upon the different persons there 
assembled, but appeared to take little 
notice of Kay, whose assumed color, no 
doubt, removed every idea of his being 
the robber from his mind. 

* He was a most desperate scoundrel, 
whoever he is,^ said the drover, ^ and I 

feel the effects of hisd d knuckles on 

my throat, now. I wish I could only 
meet with the fellow, and I warrant me 
he^d not escape from my clutches again, 
very easily.' 

^ This is a bad job, a terrible bad job,' 
aid the landlord. 

* Aye, it is indeed a bad job,' said the 
Irover, ‘two thousand dollars is no 
small sum to lose as times go.' 


CHAPTER XII. 

The Ride — the Midnight Fright — the 
Corpse — The Secret Burial, 

Kay took no part in the conversation 
which followed, the staple of which con- 
sisted of denunciations of the scoundrels 
who infested the city of San Francisco 
aud its vicinity, perpetrating with im- 
punity the most daring robberies and 
even more atrocious offences. 

Kay was slightly known to several of 
the ‘crowd' who had been drawn to the 
bar by rumors respecting the robbery, 
and as Kay sauntered out of the room 
one of these persons whispered a few 


OF SAN FKANCISCO. 


81 


words to the drover, who turned and 
closely scrutinized tiie robber’s per- 
son. Kay bore his fixed gaze apparent- 
ly unmoved. But he inwardly determ- 
ined that the drover should never bear 
witness against him! 

A few evenings after this robbery, 
Inez had taken a long ride, and on her 
return was overtaken by a sudden and 
violent storm. She immediately put her 
horse to the run. Inez was too much 
accustomed to heavy rains and violent 
storms of wind to be much alarmed, as 
she knew her fleet steed would soon 
bear her home in safety. But scarcely 
had our heroine proceeded a couple of 
hundred varas when her horse fell heav- 
ily. Fortunately, however, Inez was 
but little injured. Her horse she soon 
discovered was unable to rise. Of course 
no alternative was left her but to pro- 
ceed homewards on foot. 

Notwithstanding, however, she sought 
all that was in her power to strengthen 
this idea, many doubts, fears, misgiv- 
ings, and apprehensions would steal into 
her bosom, and every blast of wind which 
howled around her seemed to come 
fraught with the moanings of despair. 
She had travelled about three miles from 
the place at which she had lost her horse, 
and was upon a dreary waste, where 
there was nothing to protect her from 
the fury of the blast and the fast falling 
rain which drifted around her. It was 
a most awful spot, and in spite of her re- 
sistance to fear, she felt the most inde- 
scribable sensation of horror creeping 
through her veins. 

‘Holy Mary!’ she exclaimed, ‘my 
weary and benumbed limbs will not sup- 
port me much further, and yet, if I pause, 
nothing but death stares me in the face. 
How awful is the darkness around, and 


here am I placed alone, and fated to en- 
dure all this toil and wretchedness. 
Could I but hear the sound even of a 
human voice, methinks it would be tran- 
sport to my soul. This silencd'is appal- 
ling. Whenever I have had occasion to 
cross this wild spot, I always felt the 
most irresistable terror; it is, indeed, a 
fit place for the perpetration of the 
bloody crimes which report says have 
been committed here, and I do not won- 
der that people should shun it after night- 
fall in dread, my God! do not desert me 
in this dreadful moment. Oh! I remem- 
ber there is an old house not far from this 
spot; could I but reach that, it would 
afford me shelter until my recruited 
strength will enable me to proceed. The 
storm increases; what will become of 
me? The rain falls faster than ever; I 
must proceed. Protect me, heaven !’ 

Trembling in every limb, and her 
knees smiting each other, Inez forced 
her way as well she was able, in the di- 
rection of the old house, which she at 
length perceived at no great distance 
from her, and so completely exhausted 
was she, that had she had to have pro- 
ceeded many yards further she must have 
sunk to the earth. It was an old build- 
ing, broken inr many parts. ' 

An old story gave the place a kind of 
fearful interest; and there was one pe- 
riod when Inez would not have ventured 
within its precints, but now she thought 
nothing about it; she thought only of 
her weary and exhausted state. She 
reached the wretched place, and found 
no obstruction to her entrance, the door 
having long since been torn off its hinges, 
and she, therefore, staggered into the 
place, and threw herself, exhausted and 
breathless, upon a heap of rubbish in one 
corner, to rest herself for a few minutes, 


82 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


ere she could see what was best to be 
done for her accomodation for the night. 
The house was divided into two compart- 
ments, and one of these was in much 
better cSndition than the other. There, 
then, Inez determined to remain till day- 
break; and gathering together some 
pieces of old boarding which had fallen 
from different parts of the building, and 
a heap of straw,-* which she found in one 
corner, she retired into it, contrived to 
make herself up some kind of a rude pal- 
let, piled all the old rubbish she could 
find against the door which opened into 
this division of the house, and then im- 
ploring the protection of Heaven, she 
wrapped herself closely in her cloak, and 
laid down. 

Completely wearied out, it was not 
long ere she was - about to sink off to 
sleep, when she was suddenly alarmed 
and astonished by hearing a noise outside 
the building, and soon after, a light glim- 
mered between the crevices, and the hor- 
ror and amazement of Inez may be easi- 
ly conjectured when she caught a glimpse 
of the shadow of two men, bearing some- 
^ng which seemed to be very heavy 
between them. They moved stealthily 
and cautiously round by the side of the 
building towards the entrance, and Inez 
had not the least doubt bnt that they 
were coming there; in a nother second 
her conjectures were confirmed, and she 
heard them deposit their burthen in the 
adjoining shed to that in which she was. 

How shall we attempt to portray the 
terror of Inez at this circumstance? 
She did not venture to breathe scarcely, 
and screwed herself into the smallest 
possible compass in the corner, for fear 
that the men should discover her there: 
but, from a small hole in the boards, she 
could perceive what was passing. 


^My Godl^ she thought, ^ what can 
be the purpose of these men? Certainly 
no good, at such an hour.^ 

Inez placed her eye to the hole in the 
boarding, and perceived that they were 
two powerful men, dressed in ponchos, 
and as the rays of the light fell upon 
their countenances, she shuddered at 
their aspects. 

They had placed the sack upon the 
floor, and began digging up the earth 
with a couple of spades which they had 
brought with them. A deadly chill fell 
upon the heart of Inez when she beheld 
this, and she could scarcely repress a 
scream, as a dreadful idea shot through 
her brain. 

^Horror! horror!^ she reflected, ‘the 
wretches have surely been committing 
murder, and have come hither to bury 
their unfortunate victim.^ 

‘ There, we shall soon be able to make 
a snug lodging for him,^ said one of the 
villains, taking up a spade and prepa- 
ring to begin to dig, ‘ and no one will 
ever know what has become of him. 
How nicely we gammoned the old fool 
to take up his lodging with us.^ 

‘ You^e right,^ said the other, ‘ it was 
very well done, and I must give you the 
credit of doing the best part towards it. 
If the friends of the old drover look for 
his return home, how woefully deceived 
they will be.’ 

‘Hal ha! hai’ laughed the first vil- 
lain, ‘ indeed they will. Well, we have 
got a very tidy booty for this job,’ 

‘ Yes, it will pay us for the trouble 
we have been at,’ was the answer; ‘ but 
I’ll warrant that we shall circulate the 
blunt a little more freely than the old 
fellow would have done. We must not 
be in the city many days.’ 

‘ As soon as the job’s over we will 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


83 


quit the spot/ returned his companion, 

* and it will be many a long day ere we 
shall revisit this neighborhood again. 
We couldn^t have fixed a much better 
place than this to deposit the old fel- 
low^s remains in ; but, I say, there is a 
door yonder, which seems to lead to an- 
other part of the house; suppose we ex- 
amine that, and see whether it will serve 
better to conceal the body .of the mur- 
dered man in than this.’ 

. * Great God I’ thought Inez, ^ I am 
lost; they will discover and murder me. 
By what horrible fatality were my foot- 
steps guided to this place?’ 

^Psha! what’s the use of talking in 
that manner, Kay?’ said the other ruf- 
fian, to whom this proposition was ad- 
dressed; ^ we have no time to spare; be- 
sides, we have half dug the grave here, 
and I dare say the old chap will lie as 
contented here as he would a foot or 
two off. Come, come, let’s finish the 
business and begone, for I am almost ti- 
red of it, and if we remain here much 
longer, there’s no knowing but that we 
might be discovered.’ 

*Oh, very well,’ said Kay, as the oth- 
er man had called him, ‘ it matters very 
litlle, so let’s go to work, and get done 
as quick as possible.’ 

^ I think we have given him depth 
enough,’ remarked the other wretch, 

* and he’ll not pop up again in a hurry 
by himself. Come, out with him, and 
let’s finish the job at once.’ 

This, as may be imagined, was a mo- 
ment of unutterable horror to our he- 
roine, who had watched the proceedings, 
and listened to the conversation of the 
assassins with the most breathless atten- 
tion; and a shuddering seized upon her 
freme which she found it impossible to 
resist. — It would, however, be useless to 


attempt to describe the relief she felt 
when she heard the observations of the 
first ruffian, by which he was persuaded 
from entering the place in which she was 
concealed ; but every moment that they 
prolonged their stay increased*^ her ter- 
ror and anxiety, for fear that her infant 
should awake, and, crying loud, betray 
her. 

After having untied the mouth of the 
sack, they drew it nearer to the edge of 
the grave they had been digging, and 
turned out the body of a stout but aged 
man, whose long grey locks were mat- 
ted together with large clots of blood 
that had issued from several deep wounds 
in the skull. 

Horror enchained all the faculties of 
Inez, and with distended eyelids, she fix- 
ed her straining eyeballs upon the dread- 
ful specacle. i 

Her blood seemed turned to ice, and 
her heart seemed almost Jo cease its pul- 
sation. Should the wretches find out 
that she was there concealed, and had 
been watching them, and overheard the 
the acknowledgement of their dreadful 
crime, the death of herself would be cer- 
tain to follow. 

These reflections passed rapidly in the 
mind of Inez, as she watched, in a state 
of the most breathless suspense, the ac- 
tions of the murderers, as they, in the 
most callous manner, tossed the body of 
their wretched victim into the grave they 
had dug for its reception, and commen- 
ced filling it up, occupying the interval 
during the disgusting scene, with the 
most ribald conversation, which smote 
the heart of our heroine with horror, as 
she listened to it, 

^ There,’ exclaimed Kay, as he placed 
the last spade-full of earth on the grave 
of their murdered victim, That job’s fin- 


84 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


ished, and a long and sound rest to the 
old drover. The business has been per- 
formed throughout in a tradesman-like 
manner, and no suspicion can eyer attach 
itself to us.^ 

‘Suspicion, ^ reiterated the other with a 
laugh, * oh no, we might almost as well 
imagine that somebody has been watch- 
ing us all this time in this lonely place, 
as to suppose that even the shadow of 
an idea of we being the murderers of the 
old man could attach itself to us.^ 

* Ah exclaimed Kay, ^ your obser- 
vation have started an idea in my head, 
and, had you attended to my suggestion 
in the first instance, we should have been 
secured from any danger of the sort.^ 

* What mean you?’ 

* What mean I: — why; that door, 
which, as I before observed, no doubt, 
communicates with some other part of 
the house, and it is not at all unlikely 
that some weary traveller may have ta- 
ken up his lodging there, or sought shel- 
ter from the storm, and been listening 
to our discourse all this time. Should 
such be the case, we shall not go far 
without falling into the hands of the Vig- 
ilance Committee, depend upon it. I’ll 
examine the place.’ 

^Bah ! why, you are growing worse 
than a child, Kay,’ said the miscreant’s 
companion, ^ I never heard such improb- 
able ideas to strike a fellow in all my 
life. Do you think any person could be 
within here all this time without betray- 
ing some signs of terror?’ 

^ You may laugh at me as much as 
you like, Blodget,’ returned Kay, * but 
I am generally pretty correct in what I 
fancy, and I don’t think I shall be far 
out in - this instance. Here goes for to 
see.’ 

We must fail here to portray the feel- 


ings of our heroine, as the ruffian, Kay, 
approached the door, and tried it. 

Such was the violence of her agitation, 
that cold drops of perspiration stood 
upon her forehead, and it was only by a 
complete miracle that she could prevent 
herself from screaming. 

Kay tried hard to push the door open, 
and swore when he found the obstruction; 
and at that moment, when Inez had 
nearly given herself up for lost, some 
noise on the outside of the building, ar- 
rested the attention of both the villains, 
and Kay immediately quitted the door, 
much to the relief of our heroine. 

^ Hist ?’ muttered Blodget, in a cau- 
tious tone, ‘ did you not hear a noise 
outside, Belcher?’ 

‘ I fancied I did,’ was the reply. 

* Extinguish the light,’ commanded 
the other, ^ and I will reconoitre.’ 

Kay immediately did as his compan- 
ion directed him, and Blodget cautious- 
ly opened the door and looked out. As 
he did so, Inez could hear that the 
I storm had increased in violence, and im- 
mediately afterwards she heard the 
voice of Blodget, observing, — 

^ Oh, the coast is quite clear, as far 
as I can see, and, therefore, it could on- 
ly have been fancy; but, notwithstand- 
ing, Kay, I do not see the policy of re- 
maining here. We had much better, 
on the contrary, make our escape as 
speedily as possible, while we have the 
opportunity ; for, should we be discover- 
ed here, and the fresh earth upon the 
new made grave, we should be bowled 
out to a dead certainty. It’s madness 
to suppose that anybody but ourselves 
have been here during the time we have 
been performing the funeral obsequies 
for the old man. Come, come, no more 
of this foolery, but travel’s the word.—’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


85 


And * traveP was not only the word, 
bat the action of the wretches, much to 
the relief of our heroine, who had al- 
most given her mind to despair; and 
after a short time had elapsed since they 
had quitted the place, and Inez, by at- 
tentive listening, had assured herself 
that they were not near the spot, first, 
with eyes brimful of tears, having re- 
turned her thanks to Providence for her 
deliverance from that death which she 
at one time imagined inevitable, she re- 
moved the rubbish which she had piled 
against the door, and left the place in 
which she had been concealed. 

What an inexpressible feeling of ter- 
ror smote her breast, when she passed 
the grave of the murdered man! — Her 
limbs trembled so violently that it is sur- 
prising how she was enabled to support 
herself, and she mentally offered up an 
involuntary prayer for the repose of his 
soul, and that his barbarous assassins 
might be brought to punishment for 
their inhuman violation of the laws. It 
was a second or two before she ventur- 
ed to quit the place, but having listened 
at the door, which the ruffians had clos- 
ed after them, and hearing no other 
sounds than those caused by the fury 
of the storm, she ventured to open it 
and look forth. The scene was awful 
enough, as a pitchy darkness obscured 
all around, save when, at intervals, the 
flashes of lightning succeeded the deaf- 
ening thunder-peals. The rain also de- 
scended rapidly, and all around present- 
ed a scene of the most appalling horror. 
But, awful as it was, to Inez it present- 
ed not half the terrors of the old out- 
house, which now contained the mangl- 
ed remains of the poor old man, whom 
the monsters had buried. 

Inez, trembling in every limb, left the 


place where she had witnessed such hor- 
rors, and with difficulty made her way 
in what she judged to be the direction of 
her father^s house. This she would ne- 
ver have had strength to reach, had she 
not fortunately met with a party of her 
father's herdsmen, who had been sent 
out in quest of her. She was soon af- 
er joined by her father, and being plac- 
ed on a horse, arrived safely at home, 
suffering greatly, however, in both body 
and mind from the anguish she had ex- 
perienced, and the terrible scenes that 
had been enacted before her young eyes. 

Leaving the maiden safely in the abode 
of her parent, we will now return to 
Monteagle. Day after day, he had cal- 
led at the Post Office, but the same 
brief response ever met his inquiries, — 

‘ None, sir.' Disappointment was wor- 
king a sad change in his appearances, 
and his broken fortunes were growing 
hourly more desperate. 

As he was one day leaving the Post 
Office, and strolling down Clay street, 
he overheard a person addressing ano- 
ther, thus: ^ Jake, you needn't go to 
the Post Office, up her6, any more for 
letters- A couple of cartloads have just 
been found down under Long Wharf; 
which it seems, the Postmaster uses as 
a place of general delivery.' 

Monteagle stayed to hear no more, 
but hastened to the place indicated. — 
A great crowd was assembled, every 
member of which was justly indignant at 
this infamous betrayal of trust in the 
Post Office officials, and while some 
talked of carrying their complaints to 
Washington; others suggested the. rath- 
er less mild but somewhat more effect- 
ive action of tying the Postmaster up in 
one of his mail bags, and dumping him 


86 


MYSTEEIES AND MISERIES 


where he had deposited their letters — 
in the Bay. 

Monteagle sprang down beneath the 
wharf, the tide having fallen, and left 
the sand bare. Here he found a large 
number of letters, and newspapers: the 
directions of many being wholly or in 
part obliterated. But among all that 
number, he could find none addressed to 
him. While he was turning over the 
letters, he saw one addressed to a young 
lady, whom he recollected as having 
been pointed out to him by Blodget 
when visiting the house in Dupont street. 
She was called the ^ English Girl,’ and 
Monteagle remembered having been 
particularly struck by the lovely though 
pensive expression of her fair face. He 
took the letter and immediately proceed- 
ed to the house where she resided. As 
soon as the usual greetings were over, 
the young lady opened the letter, but 
had scarcely glanced at its contents be- 
fore she fell heavily to the floor. Mont- 
eagle summoned assistance, and after 
some time she was sufficiently restored 
to converse with our hero; who deeply 
sympathised with her evident distress. 
The poor girl, in answer to Monteagle’s 
inquiries, gave him the following ac- 
count of her previous history: 

My father was a farmer, in comforta- 
ble circumstances, which he gained by 
his ov/n industry and exemplary conduct. 
Jt will not attempt to describe him, fori 
should fail to do justice to his merits, el- 
oquent, doubtless, as my affection for 
him would make me. Let it suffice that 
he was a man of superior education, hav- 
ing formerly moved in a different state 
of life, from which he had been driven by 
a long series of misfortunes, and his nu- 
merous virtues even by far exceeded his 
accomplishments. My mother was a 


complete counterpart of her husband, 
and never were two beings better form 
ed to meet together. I was their only 
daughter, myself and a brother being 
the only offspring they ever had. Eve- 
ry indulgence that child could wish, or 
parent could think of, was bestowed on 
me; — my every thought seemed to be 
studied by them, and there was not a 
single happiness which they had it in 
their power to grant, which they seemed 
to think too great for me.’ 

^ Our home was the happiest in the 
neighborhood, and it was the envy and 
admiration of all who knew it. Again, 
when I think upon it, and how different 
my situation is now, I cannot help giving 
vent to my feelings ; indeed, it is to in- 
dulge them that I have sat down to record 
the events of my life, although, in all 
probability, no other eyes but mine may 
ever behold it. Home, sweet home; 
there cannot be a theme upon which the 
mind of sensibility pauses with more pe- 
culiar delight than this. It is the cra- 
dle of our infancy and our age.’ 

* The seaman, amidst storm and tem- 
pest, in fair weather and foul, thinks of 
his native village; the soldier that fights 
for kings; the merchant that dives for 
gain, are, alternately, stung with the 
thoughts ot home; while the wanderer, 
who has followed pleasure, but found it 
a shade — that has bartered the humble 
content for splendid misery, thinks of 
home with a self-accusing regret, that 
renders even a return to its enjoyments 
full of bitterness and remorse. Sensibly 
do I feel the force of these observations, 
and, therefore, have I digressed from my 
simple narrative for the purpose of indul- 
ging in them.’ 

T will pass over the early part of my 
life, which was passed in almost uninter- 


OF BAN FRANCISCO. 


SI 


rupted happiness, and come at once to 
that unfortunate circumstance Which 
was the cause of my indiscretion, and 
occasioned me all that anguish I so se- 
verely felt afterwards. 

* An accident brought Captain Dari- 
an and his friend, the Earl Mansville, to 
our house, from which the latter was 
unable to be removed for several weeks. 
Alas ! it was a fatal day for me; the 
earl was young, handsome, insinuating, 
and the very first moment I beheld him, 
my heart felt a sensation it never before 
had experienced, and too soon I was com- 
pelled to acknowledge to myself that I 
had become deeply enamoured of him. 
Fatal attachment! had I not been un- 
pardonably thoughtless, I should at once 
have seen the folly, the danger, the hope- 
lessness of indulging, or encouraging a 
passion for one so far above me, and 
who would, probably, not feel for me a 
mutual sentiment, and have stifled it in 
its infancy. But it was not to be: I 
was to be taught reason by dear-bought 
experience. At length, the earl being 
restored to canvalescence, quitted our 
house, but I felt convinced it was with 
reluctance, and I noticed the looks he 
fixed on me, with a sentiment of mingled 
delight and astonishment. The glances 
he bestowed on me, were those of admi- 
ration — of love ! How my heart bound- 
ed at this idea, I need not tell; but, alas! 
it should have been its greatest cause of 
anguish, and my pleasure was greatly in- 
creased when I learned that Mansville 
having expressed his delight at the neigh- 
borhood, had taken up his abode in it 
for a short time ; but Captain Darian 
had made his departure some days previ- 
ous to another part of the country. I 
frequently saw the earl, and he seemed 
anxious to say something to me, but had 


not an opportunity, as I was mostly in 
the presence of my parents ; but I need- 
ed no interpretation of his thoughts ; my 
own sentiments fully elucidated them, 
and the warmth of the glances he be- 
stowed upon me. If it required anything 
to strengthen the affection with which 
Mansville had inspired me, it was the 
amiable character he soon acquired in 
the neighborhood, his chief pleasure ap- 
pearing to be the performing of acts of 
benevolence and philanthropy, and the 
blessings of the poor were amply lavish- 
ed upon him. Bash, thoughtless, girl 
that I was. I should have made my pa- 
rents acquainted with the real state of 
my feelings, and sought their advice up- 
on the subject, but, for the first time 
in my life, I was anxious to conceal my 
thoughts from them, and continued to 
encourage and strengthen those passions 
which reason ought to have convinced 
me could never have been requited by 
the object who had inspired me with 
them. 

It was about a month after the Earl 
Mansville had quitted our house, that I 
arose rather earlier one morning than 
was my usual custom, induced by the fine- 
ness of the weather. I descended from 
my chamber, and entered the garden, 
which was beautifully and tastefully ar- 
ranged, and in which, as well as my 
father and brother, I took much pleas- 
ure. My attention, however, was par- 
ticnlarly devoted to a rose tree, which 
I had frequently heard the earl express 
his admiration of it while he was re- 
maining at our house. Could I but get 
him by any means to receive one how 
happy should I have been. This day I 
had resolved to make my father and 
mother a little present of some of these 
roses, which I knew they would receive 


88 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


with more delight than the most costly 
gift, coming as they did from me. 

‘ How sweetly my roses have opened/ 
I soliloquized; ‘ they seem to know that 
they are destined to be gifts of affection, 
and to smile with the delight I shall feel 
in bestowing them on those I love so 
dearly. So this for my father, and this 
for my mother.^ 

I plucked two of the most beautiful, 
and had scarcely done so, when my fath- 
er entered from the house, and greeted 
me with his usual affection. 

‘ Ah, father,^ I exclaimed, ^ I have 
such a nice gift for you and my dear 
mother.^ 

‘ Indeed, my child,^ returned my fath- 
er, smiling fondly on me. 

‘ Yes,^ replied I, placing one of those 
roses which 1 had plucked in his hand, 
* there, — ^is there a painting in any man- 
sion in the country half so beautiful? 
What a name a painter would get who 
could only give a perfect copy of these 
roses, and, you see, I give you the origi- 
nals for nothing.^ 

* Dear girl, dear girl!’ ejaculated my 
father, his eyes glittering with fondness. 

* And yet I do not give them to you 
for nothing, my dear father,’ I added ; 
^ for-you give me in exchange those sweet 
smiles of affection, which are to me of 
more value than anything else in the 
world.’ 

* Darling child,’ cried my lather,’ 
raising his hand above his head, and in- 
voking a blessing upon me; ‘ the look of 
affection will always ^reward innocence.’ 

^ After having thus spoken he was 
about to depart, when I ran towards 
him, saying: 

‘What! leave us so soon, my dear 
father? Prithee stay till the air grows 
cooler.’ 


‘ My child, answered my affectionate 
parent, these locks have withered in the 
hot sun. I have passed many years in 
toiling for others, and have never shrunk 
from its beams ; and now, when it is 
partly for my darling girl I toil, the 
balm and comfort of my life, I cannot 
feel fatigue, and every drop that rolls 
down my weather-beaten forehead in 
such a cause, makes my old heart the 
lighter.’ 

‘ I threw myself once more into his 
arms, and he embraced me fervently, 
after which he hastened away. As soon 
as he had gone, I was joined by my 
mother, who, hearing my voice in the 
garden, had come to summon me to the 
morning repast 

‘So, my dear,’ she remarked, ‘old Mrs. 
Weston is likely to be better off than 
ever; instead of being ruined by the 
burning of her cottage, the Earl of 
Mansville is going to rebuild it at his 
own expense, and has made her a hand- 
some present into the bargain.’ 

At the mention of the earl’s name I 
blushed, and a sensation filled my 
bosom which no other name could have 
excited. 

‘ Indeed, my mother,’ I observed, in 
reply to what she had stated; ‘ bless his 
kind heart! The whole village rings 
with his charities; and, whenever I see 
him, my heart beats so.’ 

‘Ah, child,’ said my mother, ‘It is a 
very bad sign when a young girl’s heart 
beats at the sight of a good-looking 
young man. When that happens, she 
ought at once to get out of his way.’ 

I felt uncommonly confused, and 
know I must have blushed deeply. 

‘ Nay, my dear mother,’ I at length 
answered, ‘ to me a warning is super- 
fluous; your daughter’s affections live 


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89 


in her home. Is it possible she will find 
elsewhere what home will yield her?^ 

As I afterwards learne, the earl and 
one of his attendants had watched the 
departure of my father, and at this mo- 
ment the former descended' from the 
bridge, and approached towards us. I 
started at his presence, and was much 
confused, especially as we hadjust before 
been talking about him; but, putting on 
one of his most affable smiles, he said:— 

* Fray don^t rise. Don^t let me dis- 
concert you. Is Mr. Hey wood within?^ 

* He is but this moment gone into the 
fields yonder, my lord,^ answered my 
mother. 

^ Indeed,^ said the earl, with apparent 
disappointment, * that is unfortunate, I 
have just now urgent occasion to speak 
with him.^ 

* Urgent occasion,^ repeated my moth, 
er, aside to me ; * what can it be? My 
lord, then Fll hasten after him ; pray 
have the goodness to wait one moment.^ 

^ Nay,^ said Mansville, ‘I am ashamed 
to give you the trouble; but, being of 
importance — ^ 

^ ril make the best speed, and bring 
him to you immediately,^ returned my 
mother, hastening away, and leaving me 
and the earl alone. 

Scarcely had my mother disappeared, 
when the earl, fixing upon me a look in 
which admiration and delight were blen- 
ded, took my hand, and, in a voice of 
rapture, exclaimed: — 

^ Clara, beauteous Clara! behold be- 
fore you one who loves you to distrac- 
tion.’ 

Although my own feelings and ob- 
servations had prepared me for this 
scene, I was so flurried and confused, 
that I could scarcely contain myself. 
My bosom heaved — my heart palpitated. 


Crimson blushes, I am certain, mantled 
my cheeks; but yet I was unable to 
withdraw my hand from his hold, which 
he presed vehemently to his lips and 
then continued: — 

* Lovely Clara, pardon this abrupt- 
ness; often have I longed for this op- 
portunity, but in vain; never before have 
I had it in my power to declare how the 
first glance of that enchanting face — ’ 

^ Oh, my lord,’ I faltered out, in ■ 
tremulous accents, ^ I must not listen to 
this — leave me, I beseech you.’ 

^ Leave you, angelic creature 1’ replied 
the earl, emphatically, and still retaining 
his hold of my hand; ^ leave you! oh, 
there is madness in the bare thought! 

I cannot, I will not quit your presence till 
you have uttered some word of consola- 
tion — blessed me with some ray of hope !’ 

* 1 scarcely knew how to answer ; — I 
could not behold the object of my love, 
kneeling at my feet, and soliciting my 
sanction to his vows unmoved; the cold 
dictates of prudence would have told me 
instantly to give him a decisive answer, 
and to force myself from his presence, 
but my heart pleaded against its rigid 
rules. The earl noticed my emotion, 
and doubtless saw his triumph, for he 
continued in more fervent and embolden- 
ed terms. 

^ But surely the gentle Clara cannot 
be so cruel as to bid one who is her de- 
voted slave, despair? No — nOr- she will 
impart to him a hope — ’ 

^ Hope, my lord,’ I interrupted, rec- 
olecting myself, and the remembrance of 
my mother’s words, and my own assu- 
rance, rushing upon my mind ; ‘ I am a 
poor girl, the daughter of an humble 
farmer, and have no right to listen to a 
man like you. Even were I no longer 
the mistress of my heart, I trust I am 


90 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


not yet so lost to principle, my lord, as 
to avow it where it might not be confes- 
sed with honor/ 

The earl arose from his knee, relin- 
quished my hand, and walked away a 
few paces in much apparent agitation ; 
then suddenly returning, he said in tones 
of mingled regret and reproach: — 

^ Do you deem me capable of decep- 
tion? Clara, it is to make you my wife, 
to give you rank and title, that I came. 
One word of your^s can give splendor to 
the home you love, aud make the heart 
that lives but in your kindness, happy 

As he spoke thus, his mnnner became 
more energetic, and I felt my heart grad- 
ually yielding!— I trembled, and longed, 
yet dreaded the return of my parents; 
while the earl seeing the hesitation of 
my manner, urged his suit with redoub- 
led determination. 

^ Clara,^ he exclaimed, * there is not 
a moment to be lost ! — Can you doubt 
the sincerity of my protestations? Think 
you that I could be the base villain to 
deceive one in whom my very soul, my 
existence is wrapped up. Say but the 
blissful word ; tell me that you will be- 
come my bride, the empress of my heart 
and fortune ; — give me this sweet assu- 
rance, and ’ 

‘ Oh, my lord,^ I interrupted, in a 
state of confusion, and agitation, I will 
not attempt to describe, ‘ spare me, I 

implore you! — I — I ^ and unable to 

finish the sentence, I turned away my 
head, and burst into tears. The earl 
again seized my hand rapturously, and 
encouraged,by the emotion I evinced, his 
countenance became lighted up with an 
expression of delight, as he exclaimed — 

^ Oh, blessed moment! those tears 
\ convince me that I am not hated by her 
who bath taken possession of my wliole ■ 


j affections. Blissful assurance 1 Ere an 
other morn, my Clara, my loved, my 
adored Clara, will be my bride!— But 
time passes, we must away from this 
spot instantly.^ 

And the earl attempted to place bis 
arm around my waist, but surprised at 
his words and demeanour, I recoiled from 
him, and looking upon him with aston- 
ishment, I demanded: — . 

^ ^My lord, what mean you? — Leave 
this place! — Why, wherefore?' 

‘ ‘Nay, my dearest Clara,' returned 
Mansviile, ‘ be not surprised, or alarmed; 
my proposals are honorable; reasons of 
rank require that we retire to my villa; 
our marriage must be secret and immedi- 
ale or it may be prevented. Once mine, 
I will lea^ you back in triumph.' 

^ What,' I exclaimed, ‘ leave my 
parents in doubt, in misery?' 

‘ Banish these childish scruples,' said 
the earl, ‘ your parents will applaud you 
when they know the truth. Come to a 
lover who adores you! Come to the al- 
tar which will pour forth blessings on 
those who love so dearly! Come, Clara, 
come !' 

As the earl thus impatiently urged 
his suit, he attempted to lead me to- 
wards the bridge; — I felt my resolution 
getting weaker — I trembled — and could 
offer but a faint resistance. 

‘ Urge me no more, my lord,' I cried, 
endeavouring to disengage myself from 
him ; — ‘ let me go — I dare not listen to 
you — farewell !' 

‘ Still inflexible,' ejaculated the earl, 
turning away from me, with a look of 
the most inexpressible anguish and des- 
pair, ‘ then is my doom sealed. I can- 
not, will not live without you, and thus 
I ' 

While thus speaking, he snatched a 


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91 


pistol from his bosom, and presented it 
towards his head ! With a wild shriek 
of terror, I rushed into his arms, and ar- 
rested his fatal purpose. Some spell, 
some horrid spell came over me. I re- 
member the last cloud of smoke curling 
over our ancient trees . — — Vve no fur- 
ther recollection. When my senses were 
restored, and reason was permitted again 
to resume its sway, — I found myself an 
mate of the earPs villa, and far away 
from that home I had rendered wret(!h- 
ed. Oh, God, how dreadful, how agon- 
izing were the thoughts that first crossed 
my brain 1 I upbraided myself for a 
wretch unfit to live — as one who had 
disgraced herself and destroyed the peace 
of the most affectionate of parents for 
ever, and which ever way I turned, a 
curse seemed to pursue me. 

M ansville tried all his eloquence could 
effect to console me; renewed his most 
tender asseverations, and repeated his 
promise^to make me his bride. Strange 
infatuations! — I believed him; — I be- 
came tranquil — and if the thoughts of 
my parents and the name I had aban- 
doned ever returned to my memory, they 
were quickly banished by the soothings, 
and fond protestations of the earl. Day 
after day passed away, and still he 
promised, but failed to keep his word. 
My humble dress was now exchanged 
for fasionable finery and Mansville visited 
me every day, repeating each time with 
greater energy the vows of love with 
which he had at first seduced from my 
home. Every luxury — every enjoyment 
that could be wished was at my com- 
mand; but could they yield me real hap- 
piness? Oh, no. The splendour I was 
now placed in, was purchased with ago- 
ny; and my own feelings constantly re- 
proached me for that offence of which I 


had been guilty. Some fated spell must 
have been upon me, or I must have soon 
been convinced that St. Clair was not 
sincere in his promises, or he would net 
day after day evade the fulfilment of 
them. But it was my fate dearly to 
purchase experience of my own weak- 
ness and of the earPs treachery. Sever- 
al weeks elapsed in this manner, and 
still did the earl neglect to fulfil the 
promises he had made me, while, at the 
same time, the ardor of his passion 
seemed to increase, and the excuses he 
made for delaying our nuptials, were so 
plausible, that I was deceived by them. 
Alas! the woman whose heart has been 
sincerely attached to any particular ob- 
ject, is made an easy dupe! Let me 
pass hastily over the time, until the an- 
niversary of the day of my birth, at once 
the height of my misery, and the means 
of restoring me to reason and to peace. 
On that occasion, Mansville had made the 
most extensive preperatiorfs, for cele- 
brating it in the most spirited manner. 
Numerous guests were invited to the vil- 
la, and the peasants in the neighborhood 
were also permitted to share in the re- 
joicings. Among other things, for . my 
especial entertainment, the earl had en- 
gaged a troop of itinerant players, who 
were in the neighborhood, to perform a 
play in the grounds of the villa, which 
deserves particular mention, as it was 
the means of restoring me to reason, and 
saving me from that gulf of destruction, 
upon the brink of which I stood. 

Seldom had I felt so melancholy as I 
did on that occasion; home and all its 
tranquil pleasures, came vividly to my 
recollection, and my heart was heavy. 
There was a song which was a great fa- 
vourite in the village where I was born, 
and which described the pleasures of 


92 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


home in simple yet forcible language, ! 
and as it now came fresh upon my recol- 
lection, I could not help repeating the 
words. When I had concluded, I per- 1 
ceived that Celia, ray waiting-maid, had- 
entered the room, and had apparently I 
been listening with much attention and 
admiration to me. I 

* Bless me, Miss,^ said the loquacious j 
girl, * what a pretty song that was, and | 
how prettily you sang it. Where might 
you have learnt it, Miss, if I might make 
so bold?^ 

* Where I learnt other lessons I ought 
never have forgotten,^ replied I, with a 
deep sigh; ^ it is the song of my native 
village — the hymn of the lowly heart 
which dwells upon every lip there, and, 
like a spell-word, brings back to its name 
affection which e^er has been betrayed 
to wander from it. It is the first music 
heard by infancy in its cradle; and the 
villagers blending it with their earliest 
and tenderest recollections, never cease 
to feel its magic power, till they cease 
to live.’ 

‘ How natural that is,’ returned Celia ; 

* just like my nurse used to nurse me to 
sleep with a song, which I have never 
heard since without nodding.’ 

^ Has the earl been inquiring for me, 
Celia?’ I asked. 

‘ He has been here this morning, and 
has only just gone,’ replied the maid; 
^but only see what lovely things he 
has left you, Miss!’ 

^ And Celia displayed a costly dress, 
and several articles of jewellery, of 
which I expressed my admiration. But 
suddenly, gloomy thoughts again came 
over me, and while tears trembled in my 
eyes, I ejaculated: — 

^ But can these baubles make me hap- 
py? Ah I never I The heart that’s ill at 


ease is made more wretched by the 
splendor which laughs in awful mockery, 
around its dreariness.’ 

' The presence of Celia embarrassed 
me; I wished to indulge in melancholly 
thought alone, but she seemed determin- 
ed not to take my hints for her to leave 
me, and at last I only got rid of her by 
requesting that she would fetch me a 
book that 1 had been reading the day 
previously. When she had left the 
rqom, with much agitation, I unlocked 
my cabinet, and took out the plain vil- 
lage dress, I had worn when I quitted 
my home. The sight of this tortured 
my brain, and while deep sobs of an- 
guish almost choked my voice, I thus 
soliquized: — 

* And shall I remain here, dazzled 
and betrayed by the splendor with wdiich 
I am surrounded? Shall I still rack my 
parents hearts, and — I — will escape! 
Escape I no, no— I can brave the shocks 
of fate, but not a father’s eye: to ex- 
pose myself to his wrath — no, no I my 
heart’s not strong enough for that.’ 

^ I was interrupted by the return of 
Celia with the book, who, on seeing the 
village dress in the chaise, expressed the 
utmost astonishment. 

‘Lor’ bless me. Miss!’ ejaculated the 
girl, ‘ what’s this dress doing here ? — 
Whoever could have put such trumpery 
in the way?’ 

' As she spoke, she snatched it up, 
and was going to throw it aside when I 
sprang forward emphatically, and hasti- 
ly took it from her. 

‘ Give it back!’ I cried, ‘ that humble 
dress was mine; — I cast it off — the 
splendor that has replaced it, is the 
source of the most bitter misery! — Oh, 
my for saken parents; — Come hither, 
Celia; — I have no one here of my own 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


93 


sex to talk to — no one to listen to my 
sorrows. I ’ 

* Pray speak freely to me, Miss/ ob- 
served Celia; Hhough humble, you^ll 
not find me insincere.^ 

‘ Celia,^ I remarked, ^ if you knew 
what a home, what parents I had left, 
you^d pity me.^ 

^ I do pity you, Miss,’ replied Celia, 
* indeed I do. Better days will come ; 
you’ll be^as happy as when you left 
them.’ 

I sighed, and shook my head with a 
look of despair, and then detailed to 
Celia the particulars of my flight from 
home, and the proniises which the earl 
had made, but had hitherto failed to 
keep his word. 

^ Be of good cheer. Miss, I pray,’ 
said Celia, ^ he will keep it, depend up- 
on it.’ 

Celia spoke this with such a tone of 
confidence, that it forcibly struck me, 
and eagerly I exclaimed: — 

^Will he, Celia? — Now, don’t trifle 
with me — tell me the worst at once! — 
Better is present death, than hope de- 
ferred; still lingering on, still doomed 
to be deceived.’ 

‘ My dearest young Mistress,’ return- 
ed Celia, * there is plenty of time before 
you think of dying; and, as a proof that 
the earl don’t mean to deceive you, look 
here.’ 

And with these words, Celia present- 
ed me with a miniature of the earl, ele- 
gantly set round with diamonds, at the 
same time, adding: — 

‘On a chamber-maid’s penetration, 
this nothing more or less than an earn- 
est of the original.’ 

I took the miniature with transport, 
and my eyes became rivetted upon it 


with admiration. Nothing could be 
more true than the delineation, 

‘ Ah 1’ I observed, ‘ precious to the 
fond one, is the semblance of the object 
held most dear. ’Tis the enchanter’s 
wand, which gathers around it in a ma- 
gic circle, sweet recollections and feel- 
ings which make memory a paradise! — 
No, no! — treachery could never dwell 
in such a face! — Pll trust him still. He 
cannot mean me false.’ 

‘ Shall I put this away. Miss?’ asked 
Celia, pointing to the village dress; ‘I 
am sure the earl would be hurt to see 
it here.’ 

‘ Yes, take it away/ Celia, I replied, 

‘ I would not, for the world, do any- 
thing to make him uneasy.’ 

Celia immediately obeyed, and she had 
not been gone many minutes, when St. 
Clair entered the room, and advanced 
joyfully to meet me. 

‘ Ah, sir,’ I ejaculated, ‘ why over- 
whelm me with gifts like these? — My 
humble habits shrink from such magni- 
ficence! This (pointing to the minia- 
ture, ) is the only one I prize, the herald 
of a gift to follow, which shall restore 
me to my friends, my self-esteem; — ^my 
poor heart-broken parents.’ 

The earl turned away his head, doubt- 
less to conceal the embarrasment which 
my words occasioned him, and then, in 
a tone which showed that he wished to 
change the subject, said: — 

‘ This is your birth-day, Ckra.’ 

That word tore- my wounds open! 
Oh! what a joyous day was it when I 
was at home! The farm seemed to be ^ 
one smile of joy; — the sacred halo of 
a parent’s blessing descended on me with 
the morning sun; and even my birds, 
my flowers, my young companions, — 


94 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


all seemed to have a livelier look, and 
lift their heads rejoicing. These thoughts 
were too painfnl for my feelings, and I 
burst into tears. 

^ Nay, Clara,’ observed the earl, 

* cheer thee, love! — ^banish that woe; 
discard that dread; rely upon my pro- 
mise.’ 

* Heaven’s smile repay that word,’ I 
exclaimed fervently ; ^ the weight which 
pressed me to the earth is removed, and 
all around me breathes extacy.’ 

^ It delights me to hear thee say so, 
my dearest Clara,’ replied the earl, * go, 
sweetest, and put on your richest dress 
to celebrate this joyous day.’ 

* That day,’ I added, with enthusiasm, 

* that day which gives me back to hon- 
or. It shall be done, my lord.’ 

The earl kissed me affectionately, and 
left the room ; and once more a cheering 
hope brought consolation to my heart, 
and assured me of future happiness and 
joy. Alas! how soon was I to be 
awakened to the greatest agony! To 
more misery than I had ever before ex- 
perienced. 

The festivites of the day passed off 
most brilliantly until the play commenc- 
ed. The gardens in which it took place 
were brilliantly illuminated, and the 
temporary theatre was formed among 
the trees in the back. J ust as the per- 
formances were about to commence, a 
servant entered and delivered to the 
earl a letter, upon perusing the contents 
of which, he excused himself to me and 
the numerous guests, it being necessary 
that he should be absent for a short 
time; but he begged that his absence 
might not interrupt their pleasure^ as 
the village actors would amuse them 
with their humble efforts; and ere they 
had ended, he would return.. 


When the earl aad gone, I beckoned 
Celia over to me, and the play immedi- 
ately commenced; but what were my 
feelings of intense agony as it proceed- 
ed, when I perceived that the plot, and 
every incident of the piece, so corres- 
ponded with my own circumstances, that 
it seemed as if they had actually chosen 
me to sketch the heroine from. A no- 
bleman wooed a peasant girl ; he vowed 
the most unbounded affection for her; — 
promised her marriage, if she would 
but elope with him; — she was persua- 
ded;— she sunk senselesss in his arms, 
and was conveyed away. 

During the time the piece was being 
played, my anguish was insupportable, 
and I was so worked upon by the power 
of each scene, that I could scarcely 
persuade myself but that it was reality. 

^ Fatal resemblance,’ I ejaculated, at 
the passage where the seducer bears his 
victim away; ‘has there before been 
such another deluded being?’ 

‘Be calm, dear mistress, be calm, 
said Celia, ‘ it is only a play.’ 

But my thoughts were too intently 
fixed upon the scene which followed, to 
pay any particular attention to her words 
The parents of the betrayed one, as re- 
presented in the piece, upon hearing the 
screams of their daughter, rushed on to 
the stage, the father demanding of his 
wife the meaning of the alarm, and the 
cause of the cries he had heard. The 
mother looking round, and finding that 
her daughter was not there, exclaim- 
ed: — * 

‘ My child ! my child ! — A mere pre- 
tence — our darling — lost — escaped! 
All! there! there! behold the seducer 
bearing her away!’ 

‘ Ah ! . cried t he father, frantically, 

‘ what fled? given up to shame? — Oh, 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


95 


art beyond belief! Have all your fond 
professions come to this? Oh, well-laid 
plan! — Lost! lost! — Oh, viper! — hypo- 
crite! — I tear you from my bosom! — 
I sweep you from the home you have 
disgraced! — A fathers curse ^ 

With a wild shriek, as the actor gave 
utterance to these words, I rushed upon 
the stage, and falling at his feet, I vo- 
ciferated, in tones that made the place 
re-echo again: — 

^Hold! hold! — curse her not! She 
is not lost! She is innocent!’ 

At this moment the earl entered, and 
the whole of the spectators seemed 
petrified to the spot with astonishment. 

^ Ah !’ cried Mansville, ^ what do I 
see? — What is th6 meaning of this?’ 

Celia raised me from the posture I 
had assumed, and by the commands of ' 
the earl, whose confusion and chagrin 
was evident, she led me to my own 
chamber, while the guests quickly dis- 
persed, and the entertainments abruptly 
ceased. 

After I had been taken to my own 
apartment for a few minutes, by the 
kind attention of Celia, I recovered my- 
self, and addressing myself to her, 
said: — 

^ Thanks! thanks ! a thousand thanks !- 
I grieve to have troubled you thus— ’tis 
over now; ’tis nothing.’ 

*The earl. Miss! the earl!’ exclaim- 
ed Celia, and the next moment Mans- 
ville stood before me. There was an 
expression of sternness upon his brow 
which I had never seen before, and he 
seemed greatly agitated. I was alarm- 
ed, and advancing towards him, said:— 

* Oh, my lord, how shall I apologize 
for ’ 

‘No more of that,’ he interrupted; 

‘ ’tis past.’ 


‘ My lord,’ ejaculated I, surprised. 

‘Leave us, Celia;’ commanded the earl, 
and when the former had retired from 
the room, he turned to me, and the in- 
dignation of his looks seemed to in- 
crease. 

‘ Oh, Mansville,’ I observed, ‘ how 
have I deserved this indifference? Is it 
my fault that my feelings overcame me? 
Is it my fault that the scene revived my 
sense of duty? Oh, my lord, it is those 
fatal feelings that have made me what 
I am.’ 

‘ I am weary of this parade of sensibi- 
lity,’ replied the earl, impatiently; ‘ you 
have called up against me the laugh of 
my tenantry and domestics — let that 
content you.’ 

‘What does the change portend? 
This freezing look — this language of re- 
proach?’ I inquired. 

‘ For your own sake and mine press 
me no further, Clara,’ replied the earl; 

‘ I would not have had the scene which 
has just past occur for millions. If you 
have placed yourself in unpleasant cir- 
cumstances, common policy should at 
least teach you to shun the sneers of 
the world; but it is over and nothing 
can now be said which will not increase, 
instead of diminishing our mutual un- 
easiness.’ 

A burning pang shot through my 
brain as Mansville gave utterance to 
these words, and emphatically and hys- 
terically I exclaimed— 

‘Am I deceived?’ 

‘ I cannot tell what childish hopes 
you may have indulged,’ returned the 
earl, with the most freezing coldness, 
‘ and I am only sorry that you should 
have been weak enough to deceive your- 
self.’ 

‘ Oh, no, my agitation has shaken my 


96 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


senses/ cried I deliriously, and clasping 
my temples; ^he could not — no, no, 
Mansville! in the name of all that you 
have professed, and I have believed, in 
the name of those vows that are regis- 
tered on high, however man may slight 
them; and in that holiest name of all, 
the name of Him, whose bolt hangs o^er 
the hypocrite, dispel these doubts and 
this suspense ; restore me at once to my 
parents, or at once name the hour for 
that ceremony to pass, when, before the 
world, you acknowledge me as your 
wifel^ 

^ Clara,^ replied the earl, * since you 
will force me to be explicit, is it not 
strange that a mind so intelligent should 
fancy for a moment that it was possible 
for one in my rank to marry a girl in 
your’s?^ 

*The oath! — the oath!^ I cried, al- 
most choking with emotion. 

* My heart is ever your^s,^ returned 
he, ^but, of my hand, I have no pow- 
er to dispose. Nay, you pass not 
hence.’ 

‘Are there no pangs, that, like the 
dagger, kill the heart they pierce,’ ejac- 
ulated I; ‘I cast me at your feet in. 
agony 1 ’Tis Clara kneels and supplica- 
tes 1 not for herself, but for the racked 
souls, and the gray hairs of age 1 For 
your honor and eternal peace, restore 
me to my parents.’ 

The earl seemed suffering the most 
acute mental agony, and for a moment 
averted his head. 

‘ Clara,’ he said, in faltering accents, 

‘ believe my heart unchanged — my un- 
ceasing love ^ 

‘ Monster!’ I interrupted in delirious 
tones ; ‘ darest thou still profane that 
sacred word? No, my lord, the mask is 
torn away, — the attachment which was 


my pride is now my disgust; ’tis past! 
I know myself deceived, but, thank 
Heaven, I am not lost! To you, my lord, 
the bitter hour is not yet arrived; but, 
’tis an hour that never fails to guilt. 
At some unexpected moment, the bland- 
ishment of pleasure will lose, their force 
— the power of enjoyment will be palsi- 
ed in your soul; it will awake only to 
remorse. In that hour of retribution 
think of these words of warning, — 
think of the hearts you’ve broken — 
think, my lord, and tremble.’ 

Without waiting to give utterance to 
another syllable, I rushed from the room, 
but the voice of the earl, tempted me to 
stop at the door and listen. He was 
apparently pacing the apartment in the 
most violent state of agitation, and thus 
soliloquizing: — 

‘ The fatal truth curdles my blood like 
poison! I feel the hell in my bosom. 
Oh, what a heart I’ve lost? Why, splen- 
did slavery of rank, must virtue be thy 
victim; why must affection be sacrificed 
to thee? The peasant mates him where 
his heart directs, and to his lowly bride 
brings happiness; his lord must fret, 
chained to some high-born fool ; or eith- 
er pine in vain for humble loveliness, oi* 
make its innocence a martyr to his choice. 
I was not born to be a betrayer. Wed! 
I cannot cease to love !’ 

The words recalled my scattered reason, 
and I was almost tempted to return to 
the apartment; but a feeling of pride re- 
strained me, and bursting with anguish, 
I hurried away to my chamber, where I 
was soon afterwards joined by Celia, 
who was sent by the earl to watch me. 
I was at first insensible to her presence, 
and sat like a statue, with my eyes fixed 
upon the earth, and buried in deep and 
agonizing meditation. The poor girl 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


97 


spoke to me, but, overcome with my 
emotions, I burst into tears, and threw 
myself on the couch, and Celia, proba- 
bly thinking that I should fall into a slum- 
ber, left. My mind being so dreadfully 
fatigued by the sufferings I had so re- 
cently undergone, I did gradually fall 
to sleep, from which I was aroused by 
hearing some person moving in the ad- 
joining^apartment. The door was part- 
ly open, and I perceived it was Celia- 
Anxious to ascertain for what purpose 
Celia was there, I still pretended to 
slumber, and,^shortly afterwards, she 
stole softly to the door which opened 
upon my chamber, and peeped in. 

‘ Yes, she sleeps,^ she said. ^ Poor 
lady, my heart bleeds for her. Why, 
this strange, unlooked-for adventure has 
created a fine confusion among all of us; 
for see — if one wouldnT think, by the 
state this room is in, that it had turned 
the heads of the whole family. Scarce- 
ly a piece of furniture in its place, and 
my mistresses toilet, too. Here^s confu- 
sion. But hold, Celia, that’s your af- 
fair, so no complaining. I declare I’m 
a[most worn out with this bustle. Heig- 
hO‘! Pm ordered by the earl to watch 
my mistress here; but Pm sure I don’t 
know what I shall do to keep awake, 
suppose I finish the new drawing the 
Lady Clara honored my humble talents 
by so much admiring — that’s just the 
thing.’ 

Celia placed the drawing-stand before 
her, and sitting down, applied herself 
to her task; but it was evident, by her 
frequent nodding, that her words would 
soon be verified, and I was most anx- 
for it to happen so, as I had formed a 
resolution to make my escape from the 
villa that night by some means or other. 
She once more approached the couch. 


I and having apparently satisfied herself 
; that I still slept, she returned to the 
i drawino:. 

I ° 

* Oh, dear,’ she exclaimed with excess- 
ive weariness, ‘ oh, dear, my eyelids are 
so very heavy, they stick together when- 
ever I wink, and I can scarcely force 
them open again.- My poor drawing 
will never get finished at this rate. 
However, I must try once more what it 
will do to keep me from sleeping at my 
post.’ 

She again endeavored to keep hejself 
awake, but her efforts were all useless, 
she nodded, and nodded, until at length 
she fell back in her seat, fast asleep. 

I now hastily arose, and attired my- 
self in the village dress I had gazed at 
with such feelngs of pain and regret in 
the morning. I approached Celia on 
tip-toe, and being certain she was really 
asleep, I soliloquized — 

^ Yes, she sleeps! Now is the only 
moment! I thought I could not brave 
a father’s eyes; but there is courage in 
despair, which makes the weak frame 
wonder at itself. I hava written this 
letter to the earl, and here are all his 
gifts — his diamonds, his detested wealth. 
Now, methinks, my heart feels lighter. 
Yes, like the prodigal, I will turn my 
steps where a child may always look 
with confidence. I have been impru- 
dent, but am not guilty. Heaven re- 
ceives the offering of the sincerely peni- 
tent, and can a parent’s blessing be de- 
nied when Heaven forgives?’ 

The apartment upon which my cham- 
ber opened, and in which Celia was, was 
a magnificent one. On one side was a 
large French window, through which the 
distant country could be seen far beyond. 
Outside was a balcony overhanging the 
road. I undrew the curtains softly, and 


98 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


opened the window. It was a fine moon- 
light night, and the distant landscape 
could be seen as distinctly as at broad 
day. I took a scarf from the shoulders 
of Celia, which she wore, fastened one 
end of it to the balcony railing, then re- 
turned, made an appeal to Heaven for 
protection, and blew out the candles. 
With more firmness than might have 
been expected, i then began my perilous 
descent, and gradually letting myself 
down by the scarf, alighted in safety 
below. Fear of being re-taken lent 
speed to my feet, and I flew with the 
greatest rapidity across the country to 
which, however,! was complete stranger. 

I scarcely abated my speed in the least 
for the distance of five miles or more, 
when I was obliged to pause, in order to 
rest myself. I looked fearfully around 
me to see whether or not I was pursued, 
and then reflected upon what course I 
should pursue. I feared to travel at 
that hour, and, indeed, it would have 
been most dangerous, to a young girl 
especially ; I therefore resolved to pro- 
ceed for some distance further, and then 
to seek shelter at some cottage till the 
morning. I then resumed my lonely 
journey in a state of fear and agitation, 
it is unnecessary for me to describe. 
After walking for above an hour longer, 
I arrived at a small and obscure hamlet, 
and by the light which I perceived in 
several of the cottage windows, I was 
satisfiied that some of the inmates had 
not retired to rest. 

Here, again I paused, for uncertain 
of the reception I might meet with, I 
almost feared to knock. At length, I 
approached the first one, and having 
first listened at the door, and hearing 
- only the voice of an old woman, appar- 
ently in prayer, I became more confident. 


and having waited till she had ceased, 

I knocked, and shortly afterwards, the 
voice of the old woman demanded who 
was there, and what they wanted. I in- 
formed her, and begged that she would 
admit me. It was some time before she 
complied, and seemed to be consulting 
within herself the propriety or safety of 
doing so, but having put several more 
questions to me, as to whether I was 
alone, &c., she at last ventured to open 
the door, and eyed me narrowly from 
head to foot. She was a very clean, 
motherly-looking woman, whose appear- 
ance called the tears to my eyes, she 
was so much like the parent to whom I 
was returning. 

^ Good gracious, child,^ he said, ^ what 
causes you to be out at this time of 
the night and from whence do you come?’ 

^ I am a stranger in this part of the 
world, my good dame,’ I replied; ‘I 
have recently made my escape from vil- 
li any, and crave a shelter in your cottage 
till the morning. I have sufficient to 
reward you for your trouble.’ 

^,As for reward,’ returned the old wo- 
man, ‘ I require none; and if your story 
is true, you are heartily welcome to the 
humble bed I have to offer you.’ 

I thanked the poor woman most sin- 
cerely for her kindiiess, and entered the 
clean little parlor, where the remains of 
her humble repast she had been partak- 
ing of, was still upon the table, and of 
which she requested me to eat, but I de- 
clined. Judging from her manners and 
appearance that she was one in whom I 
could confide, I gave her a brief account 
of my situation, and upon what purpose 
I was bent. She listened to me with 
evident commiseration, and applauding 
the resolution I had formed, after some 
conversation, she conducted me to the 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


99 


room in which she was able to accoma- 
date me, and after bidding me goodnight 
left me to myself. Fatigued with the 
events of the day, it was not long ere I 
fell asleep, and I did not awake until the 
old woman aroused me late in the morn- 
ing. 

Having been prevailed upon by her to 
partake of her humble meal, and offered 
her some remuneration for her kindness 
which she persisted in declining, I took 
leave of her, and made my way to the 
coach office, to which she had directed 
me. I met with no interruption on the 
road, and succeeded in obtaining a place 
in one of the coaches just starting for 
my native village. I alighted from the 
coach a short distance from my place of 
destination, having made up my mind 
to walk the rest of the way. 

I cannot adequately portray the na- 
ture of my feelings as I approached the 
home where I had never known anything 
but happiness until my meeting with 
Mansville; alternate hopes and fears 
racked my bosom. It was a beautiful 
morning; the sun shone forth in full me- 
ridion splendor, and all nature seemed 
to wear a smile of gladness. When I 
came within sight of the village, my* 
heart felt ready to burst, and suddenly 
the sound of pipes and tabors vibrated 
on my ears. Presently afterwards, a 
bridal procession approached towards 
the spot where I was, and stopped be- 
fore the doors of one of my female com- 
panions, Ellen Greenley, and George 
Ashburne, who had long been her ac- 
knowledged lover. 

George Ashburne having thanked his 
friends for their kindness, the father of 
Ellen joined them. 

^ Good morning to you, my dear child,^ 
said Mr. Greenley, kissing his daughter 


affectionately, and smiling upon his son- 
in-law elect, kindly ; * may this prove a 
blessed day to you both. Go, lads and 
lasses, and gather the flowers to cele- 
brate the ceremony.^ 

The villagers departed, and Mr. Green- 
ley continued — 

^ ril try if I canT prevail upon Mr. 
Heywood, the unfortunate father of Cla- 
ra, to come to your wedding; poor fel- 
low ! he may be compared to the ruined 
wing of the crazy old mansion-house he 
was converted into a farm, that looks 
down in gloomy silence upon the bright 
and smiling landscape which everywhere 
surrounds it. Ah! that sad girl! the 
flowers they go to gather are less frail 
than she has proved. My children be 
virtuous if you would be happy.' 

Thus saying, the old man re-entered 
the cottage, but his words had been so 
many daggers to my heart. 

' Clara's father,' observed Ellen, when 
her father had left them, ^ ah ! if our 
poor Clara herself were only here now, 
how her heart would rejoice in our hap- 
piness.' 

^ Don't name her, Ellen,' said George, 
* don't name her ; a virtuous girl's, lips 
ought not to- be sullied by the mention 
of her name.' 

^ Ah! George,' replied Ellen, ^pity 
becomes the virtuous, and the more she 
has fallen, the more she deserves to be 
pitied.' 

Tsha!' cried George, * can't you talk 
about something else?' 

*A sad day it was when she went 
away,' continued Ellen, ^ everybody was 
downcast, as if some great affliction had 
befallen the village.' 

‘ More fools they,' was George's ab- 
rupt retort; "if you or I had gone, in- 
deed, it might have afflicted them; now, 


100 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


Ellen, you shall not talk any more about 
her. Come, come, let us be going.^ 

Suddenly accumulating all my forti- 
tude, I emerged from the place where I 
had concealed myself, and called upon 
Ellen by name. Both her and her lover 
started, and the former exclaimed in a 
tone of astonishment and alarm; — 

‘ Bless us I what’s that?’ 

* As I live,’ said her lover, ^ it is Cla- 
ra Hey wood, or her ghost!’ 

* Do not be alarmed, Ellen,’ I said, 
^ but one word with you.’ 

‘No, it’s she herself, as I’m alive,’ 
ejaculated Ellen; ‘ but oh, how changed 
she is.’ 

‘ One word, dear Ellen,’ I repeated. 

‘ I am not satisfied upon this subject,’ 
said the timid George, ‘ so, as you seem 
resolved to stay here, I shall be off.’ 

‘ Ellen,’ I repeated, as soon as George 
had departed ‘ Have you forgotten me?’ 

‘No, Clara, no,’ answered the affec- 
tionate girl, ‘nor never shall forget you. 
I was even talking about yon, as you 
called. Ah! Clara, you’re sadly alter- 
ed; and so is everything since you went 
away. Such a day as it was, when you 
left us ! — There wasn’t a dry eye, nor a 
cheerful word spoke in the village. 
Your poor father — ^ — ’ 

‘ Well — well!’ I hurriedly interrupted. 

‘ I see it grieves you,’ said Ellen ; ‘I 
didn’t mean to make you sad — you look 
as if you had suffered enough. This is 
my wedding-day, Clara.’ 

‘Ellen sighed, and for a moment 
averted her head. 

‘ Yes, Ellen,’ I resumed, ‘ I wish to 
see my mother, and to see her privately. 
She would not, perhaps, admit me to 
her presence, if she was not forewarned. 
You can oblige me greatly, if you will 
induce her to come to me, by saying that 


a stranger desires to speak with her, im- 
mediately.’ 

‘ That I will, with all my heart,’ said 
Ellen. ‘ and may it turn to good. Oh, 
may all the realization of her hopes at- 
tend the returning wanderer. But where 
shall I find you?’ 

‘I’ll follow you,’ I answered, ‘go 
round to the front door ; I’ll take the 
opposite side, and meet you at the gate. 
And Heaven will help the heart, deter- 
mined to retrace the paths of rectitude 
and honor,’ I cried, as with a heart 
beating with hope and dread, I made 
my way towards the house of my belov- 
ed parents. 

Oh, never shall I forget the feelings 
with which I entered at the gate. 

‘ Here is my home!— my blessed, bles- 
sed home!’ I reflected; ‘ a frowning form 
appears to guard the threshhold, shriek- 
ing in my ear — ‘ Hence ! thou shalt not 
enter!’ But can I linger here? — I seem 
to tread the earth like a criminal. I 
must, and I will approach! Now, now 
now !’ 

Having at last made a violent effort 
to conquer my emotions, I rushed down 
the steps into the yard, and then exclaim- 
ed triumphantly — 

‘ Once more I am surrounded by all 
that is dear to me! — Father! mother! 
— your unhappy child, sorrowing, im 
ploring, returns to you! — And hark! I 
hear the song of my childhood floating 
on the air. How accutely doth its ac- 
cents strike upon my heart in such a 
scene as this, around whose every tree 
and flower some recollection of infancy’s 
entwined.’ 

My heart rose in my mouth, as I ven- 
tured, seeing the coast clear, to approach 
the house, and even “to peep into the 
parlor-window. I trembled; and an in- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO* 


101 


describable pang shot through my frame, 
as I noticed everything that well-known 
room contained, and which had not un- 
dergone any alteration since I last be- 
held it. But how shall I describe my 
feelings, when immediately afterwards, 
the door of the inner apartment was 
thrown open, and the next moment my 
mother appeared with the breakfast 
things* With what eager fondness did 
I gaze upon her revered countenance, 
and yearn again to be enfolded in her 
embrace ; and most severely did I re- 
proach myself when I noticed the heavy 
marks of care that were upon her brow. 
The casement was partially open, so 
that I could hear all that passed, and 
my mother, having placed the breakfast 
things on the table, sighed heavily and 
observed — 

‘There, there! — There^s the breakfast 
ready for my poor husband, and now I 
wish he would return. He has been out 
since daylight with his gun ; the only 
thing that seems to attract his attention. 
At home, all day he does nothing but 
sigh, or, — if he thinks he is not observ- 
ed, — weep. Oh, Clara! unthinking girl 
you have too much to atone for. How 
long he stays.’ 

My heart was ready to burst as these 
words reached my ears, and it was with 
the greatest difficulty I could avoid be- 
traying myself. My mother now came 
to the door an^^ looked anxiously out, 
but a little thatched summer-house close 
at hand concealed me from observation. 
Again she entered the house, and I over- 
heard her, in tones of the deepest anxie- 
ty, exclaini— 

‘ No, I cannot catch even a glimpse of 
him, yet my mind is never easy in his ab- 
sence; his despondency sometimes makes 
me fear that — ah! surely yonder I see 


him moving mournfully among the trees. 
Yes, ’tis he — he is just at the bridge; — 
he comes!’ 

‘Never shall I forget the sensation 
with which I strained my eyes in the di- 
rection which the observation of my mo- 
ther instructed me in, and I thought I 
should have sunk to the earth with min- 
gled feelings of the most intense anguish 
and awe, when my eyes once more be- 
held my father. But oh, how altered 
was he ! Care had deeply imprinted 
its furrows on his cheeks, and his form 
was bent and attenuated. He walked 
with a feeble step, and at least twenty 
winters seemed to have passed over his 
head since I had last beheld ^im. 

‘My God!’ I mentally ejaculated, 
‘and are these the terrible consequences 
of my imprudence? Oh, my poor moth- 
er, truly did you say that I had much to 
atone for! — How can I ever make suffi- 
cient reparation for the misery I have 
occasioned.’ 

My father at length reached the house, 
and my mother ran affectionately to 
meet him. 

‘ You were wrong to have wandered 
so far,’ she said, ‘ you seem quite ex- 
hausted.’ 

‘No,’ replied my father, ‘ ’tis only ex 
ercise that can divert the mind from 
gloom; When the mind’s disturbed, the 
body does not feel fatigued. I’m late 
I hope you haven’t waited breakfast for 
me.’ 

‘ I would not certainly breakfast with- 
out you,’‘ returned my moher; ‘ but you 
are too much heated to' sit in this par- 
lor; the breeze is too keen for you; we 
will go into the inner apartment. Go, 
and I will take the breakfast things for 
you.’ 


102 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


* Well, well, as you please,^ said my 
father, * where is Edwin 

‘ He has gone to make one of the 
wedding party of Ellen and George,^ an- 
swered my mother. 

‘A wedding!^ said my father, with a 
sigh, ^ ah.^ 

My mother had by this time hastily 
gathered up the breakfast things, and 
left the parlor. 

, * Poor, bereayed mother,^ sighed my 
father, looking after her with the most 
poignant sorrow, Vshe struggles with 
her grief, and endeavors to impart a joy 
which neither can feel; which we nei- 
ther can know again. — Nol no! peace 
of mind fled with my guilty daughter — 
never to return ! Why did I repair the 
ravages time had made in this old man- 
sion? Why strive to give an air of com- 
fort to my habitation? — Because I deem- 
ed it would be the abode of bliss. She — 
my child, hath made it the abode of de- 
spair! — But, no matter, a few years of 
neglect, desolation will spread around, 
and hearth, roof, and tree will be ruined, 
like my happiness, and broken as my 
heart 1— My daughter !— my Clara ! Oh ! 
misery ! misery ! She is gone 1 she is 
lost forever 

As he thus spoke he rushed from the 
room, and my agony was so great that 
I could not help groaning aloud. 

*Oh! God!^ I exclaimed; * what will 
become of me? — I shall go mad! — 
Would that I had not ventured hither; 
I shall never be enabled to withstand 
the scene! — Never can I find resolution 
enough to meet his reproaches. Alas! 
%e is too strongly prejudiced against 
me, ever to be persuaded that I am 
guiltless! — But where is Ellen !^ 

I had scarcely given utterance to the 


words, when the latter approached, and 
before I had time to speak to her, enter- 
ed the house observing me, however, and 
motioning me to remain where I was, 
and to wait patiently. I cannot do 
justice to the anxiety of my feelings 
during the time I was waiting there. A 
thousand doubts, hopes and fears, flash 
ed across my brain, and every moment 
seemed to be an hour. At length, I 
heard Ellen in joyful accents exclaim, 
as she came from the house, 

^ Joy, Clara, joy!’ 

I sprang forward with rapture to 
meet her. 

^ I have succeeded, my dear Clara, 
said the genergus-hearted girl, exulting- 
ly; ^she’ll come to you. Wait in the 
summer-house, and she’ll be with you 
presently.’ 

‘Thanks! thanks!’ cried I, ‘a thous- 
and thanks, my dearest Ellen.’ 

‘ She’s coming,’ observed Ellen, eag- 
erly; ‘go, quick. I pray for your suc- 
cess from the bottom of my soul.’ 

Scarcely had I time to enter the sum- 
mer-house, when my mother approached. 
Now was the moment of my trial at 
hand ; a deadly sickness came over me, 
and it was with difficulty I could save 
myself from fainting. The next mo- 
ment my mother entered the summer- 
house, and she no sooner beheld me, 
than she uttered a loud scream of as- 
tonishment, and became, as it were, 
paralyzed to the spot. 

‘Mother! mother!’ I cried, in frantic 
tones, ‘ if I may still call you by that 
dear name; — oh, pardon your imprudent, 
but not guilty daughter!’ 

I could say no more, but sank at her 
feet. A pause of several moments en- 
sued! my mother being too much over- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


103 


powered by her emotions to speak; but 
at length, in a voice choked with agony, 
she exclaimed: — 

^Wretched girl! dare you again to 
approach that home, those parents 
whose hearts you have rendered deso- 
late? Guilty, miserable girl — ’ 

* Oh, no, no,^ I interrupted hastily, 
‘imprudent, cruel, I have been, dear 
mother, but your child returns to you 
as pure as when she left you. I appeal 
to heaven to attest my innocence. Oh, 
my mother, pardon the poor prodigal, 
who erred alone through youth and in- 
experience, and who is now ready to 
make all the atonement in her power 

‘ Can this be true? Have you indeed 
not endeavored to deceive me?^ ejaculat- 
ed my mother, eagerly, and her eyes 
beaming, fixed with a penetrating glance 
upon my countenance, as though she 
would read all that was passing in my 
soul. ‘ But no, it is impossible. How 
can you be innocent, uncontaminated? 
did you not abandon your home, your 
parents, and throw yourself into the 
arms of a villain, who — ’ 

‘ Oh, mother, believe it not,^ I return- 
ed, with the tears at the same time 
streaming down my cheeks. ‘ I acknow- 
ledge that by the most base and subtle 
means, and in a moment of thoughtless- 
ness and imprudence, Mansville got me 
into his power, and bore me far away 
from my home. But I thought that he 
meant to act honorably towards me. 
He told me he would make me his bride. 
I was too ready to believe him, and day 
after day he made some plausible ex- 
cuse to postpone the fulfilment of his 
promise. Think not, however, that 
I suffered nothing. That you were ever 
absent from my thoughts, or that the 
fondly cherished recollections of my 


home, that home I had quitted, ceased 
to torture my mind. Bitter, indeed, 
were the pangs I endured. Ofttimes 
would I have fled the place, and return 
ed hither, but I dreaded to meet the ro 
proaches of my parents. When, how- 
ever, Mansville threw aside the mask, 
I overcame that dread, and your unhap- 
py daughter has come back to solicit 
your forgiveness, with her virtue as un- 
sullied as when she left you.^ 

During the time I was speaking, the 
agony evinced by my mother needs no 
description, and when I had ceased, in 
a paroxysm of delirous transport, she 
snatched me from the earth and enfold- 
ed me in her arms, exclaiming — 

‘ My child — my long lost Clara! Yes, 
I do indeed believe you, and pardon you, 
Oh, this is a happiness that I never ex- 
pected!^ 

‘Mother, dear mother P I cried, in a 
tone of gratitude and delight which I 
cannot adequately describe, ‘ to be suf- 
fered once more to speak to you in this 
place — to hear those blest words — to 
tnow myself pardoned. My heart is so 
full. Thus, thus only can I thank you.^ 

Again I threw my arms around her 
neck, and pressing vehemently to her 
bosom, she wept tears of joy. 

‘ Unfortunate girl,’ at length she said, 
gently withdrawing herself herself from 
my enthusiastic caresses, ‘ I believe you 
innocent; but a mother’s heart is more 
indulgent than the world. And, ah! 
there is yet one to be appeased. Hark I 
I hear footsteps. It is your father. 
Softly — stand out of sight! He comes,, 
but must not know you yet.’ 

Hastily throwing a veil over me, my 
mother urged me into the summer-house, 
and the next moment my father and the 
father of Ellen came from the house. 


104 


MYSTKPvIES AND MISERIES 


They were in conversation, and by the 
words which I overheard, it seemed that 
the latter had been endeavoring to per- 
suade my father to join the wedding 
party. 

‘ But at any rate,^ said he, ‘ for half 
an hour you might.^ 

^No,^ returned my father, mournfully, 

* I should only mar the festal hour. I 
am the scathed tree of the heath that 
cannot drop. The bolt that struck off 
my branches has left my old trunk erect 
in wretched loneliness.’ 

‘’Tis a shame, neighbor,’ observed 
his companion, * it is a shame, I say, 
for a strong mind like yours to give it- 
self up to sorrow in this way. You 
might as well put a pistol to your head 
at once, for you will be sure to kill 
yourself by it, sooner or later, and self- 
murder in one form is quite as criminal 
as in another.’ 

^ When you have seen the being for 
whom you’ve lived,’ retorted my father, 

* the object of every solicitude — the 
child you’ve reared with unceasing 
watchfulness, wrenched from you by a 
villian’s grasp, then come to me and talk 
of patience, and I’ll listen.’ 

‘Well, well. I’ll not weary you any 
longer,’ observed Mr. Greenly; ‘from 
my soul I’m grieved to see you thus 
abandoned to fruitless sorrow. Fare- 
well, my friend, and may days be at 
hand when we shall see you smile once 
more.’ 

Thus saying, and grasping the hand 
of my father most cordially, the father 
of Ellen retired through the gate. 

‘Smile,’ soliloquized the former, as his 
friend left him; ‘smile! Oh, happy 
father! — happy to see his daughter safe 
in her, native innocence — safe from the. 
bane of wealth. I once hoped that 


such a fate would beam on me ; but fate 
was jealous. Lost, lost, wretched girl!’ 

While mine unhappy father was thus 
speaking, my mother entered the sum- 
mer-house, and leading me forth, she 
placed her finger on her lips to enjoin 
me to silence. We stood aside, and 
watched him, unobserved. 

‘As I gaze there,’ he continued, ‘ me- 
thinks I see her in her days of innocence, 
when first her little steps began: laugh- 
ing, she ran, with arms extended towards 
me; then I trembled lest her young feet 
should fail, and she should fall. But 
she passed through those fearful times 
unharmed. She escaped those thousand 
dangers. Now she falls — falls^ to the 
earth, never to rise! She’s gone — she’s 
lost! My Clara! Oh, my child!’ 

My heart was ready to burst, and I 
was almost choked with endeavouring 
to repress the heavy sobs that heaved 
my bosom. My father threw himself in- 
to a chair, and my mother advanced to- 
wards him, and touched him on the shoul- 
der. 

‘A tear,’ she observed, in gentle ac- 
cents. ‘Did I not hear our Clara’s name 
too? Did not your lips utter the name 
of our child?’ 

‘No, no,’ he replied, hastily rising; 

‘ let us, if possible, not think or speak 
of her again.’ 

‘Well, well, dearest husband,’ return- 
ed my mother, ‘ I will not urge it now; 
but here is a poor creature, the daugh- 
ter of — ’ 

‘Away — away !’ hastily and vehement- 
ly interrupted my unhappy parent. ‘ I 
have no daughter now.’ 

‘ No,’ replied my mother; ‘ but this re- 
pentant child, the da/ughter of a neigh- 
bor, is on her way to ask forgiveness of 
her offended father. She faints with 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


105 


shame and grief, and dares not meet 
him. Do speak a word or two of com- 
fort to her, and teach her in what words 
she should address him to gain his bless- 
ing, and to sooth his anguish.’ 

^None,’ replied my father, hastily, 
and his eyes beaming wild, * none. Let 
her not dare to look upon him. Let not 
her presence insult the home her infamy 
has disgraced. Perhaps, too, she had a 
mother, rich in every virtue. Let her 
shun that mother, for contamination is 
in her touch. Yirtue can hold no in- 
tercourse with vice, though vice, with 
double baseness, kneels affecting rever- 
ence for virtue.’ 

I found it impossible to help groaning 
aloud, as I listened to my father’s obser- 
vations, and I threw myself into my mo- 
ther’s arms. He turned his eyes stead- 
ly upon me for a minute or so, and then 
resumed — 

‘ Yet hold! I will not judge too harsh- 
ly; for there are shades of guilt, and 
her’s, perhaps, may not be of so deep a 
dye as to preclude forgiveness. Perh aps 
her father was not affectionate- Per- 
haps ('poor child!) he was morose and 
frigid. Perhaps neglectful, cold, unin- 
dulgent.’ 

'Oh, no!’ I sobbed, and sank on my 
knees before him with clasped and up- 
raised hands," ' he was most kind, affec- 
tionate, and good.’ 

' What,’ eagerly demanded my poor 
parent, ' did he love you better than all 
the world? — did he rear you in domestic 
tenderness, and train you in the paths 
of virtue? — did he clasp you to his dot- 
ing heart, and in his foolish pride pro- 
claim his child the paragon of earth? — 
and did you then blast all of his fond 
hopes, and clinging to another, leave 
him in his storm of grief?’ 


Again I groaned with the almost in- 
supportable power of my anguish, and 
still remained on my knees before him. 

' Dearest husband,’ said my mother, 
' do not aggavate the dear child’s mis- 
ery. She is repentant — she is the shorn 
lamb, temper the storm to her affliction, 
but do not add another wound to a 
heart already too much lacerated.’ 

' Well, well,’ returned my father, ' be 
it so. I will forget my own, and try 
to sooth her sorrows. Young woman, 
rise.’ 

He raised me from the earth, and 
taking my hand tenderly, continued: — 

' What your miseries are, I well can 
guess; but what your father’s sufferings 
are I too well know. You fear to meet 
his eye ; you dread to hear his curse. A 
father’s curse is heavy; shall I paint this 
agonizing suffering to you, child ! I can 
do so ; for I have felt it. I have it now. 
I once .had a daughter.’ 

' Ob, sir, do not name her!’ I cried, 
with a feeling of agony, too powerful 
for utterance. 

' Oh, how I doted on that daughter,’ 
he continued, and his countenance be- 
trayed the terrible mental agony he was 
enduring. ' How I adored her, words 
cannot tell; thoughts cannot measure! 
Yet 'she sacrificed me to a villain,~her 
ingratitude has bleached this head, — her 
wickedness has broken this heart, and 
now my detestation is upon her! Oh, 
do not you resemble her, — remain not 
a moment longer from your father. — fly 
to him ere his heart give way, as mine 
does now — ere he curses you as I now 
curse — ’ 

' Oh, no more!’ I interrupted, darting 
forward in excessive agitation ; ' in mer- 
cy, oh, no more.’ 


106 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES . 


* Ha!^ groaned my father, as he recog- 
nised me and retreated from me, ^ away ! 
away! awayT 

In a wild delirium of agony, I follow- 
ed him on my knees^ exclaiming, in fran- 
tic accents, — 

* Your vengeance cannot make you 
deaf to the agony of a despairing child; 
behold me on my knees; I bring the sac 
rifice of a broken spirit. I do not ask 
your love till you know I am worthy of 
being loved. I do not ask your confi- 
dence till you feel I can be trusted; but 
do not deny me the shelter of your pa- 
ternal roof.’ 

‘ My father spurned me violently from 
him, and as he did so, he cried, in hoarse 
tones, — 

^ Hence! hence! — I know you not! 
My sight rejects you — spurns you! If 
you have wasted all the spoils of guilt, 
there — there’s gold! Your idol, gold! 
for which you bartered all your hopes of 
bliss!’ 

He dashed a purse furiously to the 
earth as he spoke, and hastened towards 
my mother, fixing upon me looks of scorn 
and hatred. Oh, Heaven! how each 
glance penetrated to my soul! How 
every word burnt to my heart! It was 
wonderful that reason could retain her 
empire in that trying scene. 

‘ Father 1 father!’ I implored, with re- 
doubled vehemence, ^ hear me, I beseech 
you.’ 

^Husband, dearest husband!’ suppli- 
cated my mother, ‘ hear her, she is inno- 
cent.’ 

‘ Innocent!’ he reiterated, * she inno- 
cent! No, no, impossible! — she left us; 
left her happy parents — her happy home 
— to follow a villain!’ 

^ Father, dearest father!’ I cried, ‘tem- 
per mercy, I pray you, with your sever- 


ity. I am not the poor, guilty, degrad- 
ed being that you suppose me to be. 
Your child is still virtuous — still unpol- 
luted; her only crime has been in loving 
one too fondly, who sought to betray 
her! In the name of Heaven, I assert 
my innocence, and if I speak not the 
truth, may its most awful vengeance de- 
scend upon my head! But you cannot, 
you will not, longer doubt me. I see 
you will not! Oh, bless you for this, 
father, father!’ 

I could say no more ; but sobbing con- 
vulsively, I threw myself into his arms! 
He wept;— yes, I could feel his chest 
heave with the power of mental anguish, 
and the big round te^ir of sorrow fell 
from his eye upon my cheek ; he pressed 
me with all the fervour he had ever been 
wont to do to his heart, and ere he pro- 
nounced it, I knew that I was forgiven. 

‘ My child ! my Clara !’ he at last cri- 
ed, ‘ is it possible that I again hold you 
innocent to my bosom? But no, the 
the bliss is too great to be real! And 
yet it is her! yes, it is my child; it is 
her lips that have asserted her innocence 
and appealed to Heaven to attest it, and 
I can no longer doubt! Oh, happiness 
supreme ! My long - lost, reclaimed 
child ! Receive a parent’s thanks.’ 

He could say no more for a minute or 
two, but again did he clasp me with ec- 
stacy to his bosom, and weep tears of 
gratitude upon my cheek. Then he 
would, withdrawing himself from me, 
with an expression I find it impossible 
to describe, gaze in my countenance, and 
clasping his hands together, raised them 
towards Heaven, in humble thanksgiving 
for its goodness in restoring me, uncon- 
taminated to his arms; while my poor 
mother’s emotion was equal to his own, 
and she gazed on the scene with a sensa- 
tion of the deepest gratitude and joy. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


lOT 


*But where is the villain who has 
been guilty of this outrage?^ he at length 
demanded^ ‘ let me hasten to him, and 
demand satisfaction for the wrongs he 
has done us; the many days and nights 
of bitter misery he has caused your un- 
fortunate parents! Tell me to what in- 
sult, what anguish did he expose you? 
I am mad to hear the guilty tale I ^ 

' Pray defer it, my dear husband, till 
your feelings are more composed;' said 
my mother. 

‘ No, no, no,' hastily ejaculated my 
father, and with the greatest impatience 
depicted in his countenance. ^ I will 
hear it now! I will no longer hesitate!' 

In as few words as possible, I com- 
plied with my father's request, and re- 
lated all the particulars of the earl's 
conduct to me during the time I was in 
his power.’' During the recital, the vio- 
lent agitation of my father was plainly 
visible, and when I had concluded, he 
walked backwards and forwards for a 
short time, with disordered steps, and 
muttering incoherent sentences to him- 
self. 

At length he turned to me, and clasp- 
ing me vehemently to his bosom, ex- 
claimed; — 

^ My child !---my own one! — my still 
innocent Clara! — Can I longer doubt 
you? Oh, no! you are restored to my 
arms ; guiltless as when in a moment of 
imprudence you was snatched away from 
your paternal roof! Oh! God! I thank 
you for this! The trial has been a hea- 
vy one! But my child has withstood 
the temptation, the artifices of the liber- 
tine, and the tempter, and I am again 
happy! Bless you, bless you, my Cla- 
ra! — Oh, I was too severe to imagine for 
a moment that you could be the guilty 
being I supposed you to have become ! — 


Bless you again! — Here in this fond 
embrace! — This kiss of fervent affection, 
let me at once seal your pardon for the 
indiscretion of which you were guilty. 
We will never again part, till death 
shall interpose between us.' 

Thus saying he snatched me fervently 
to his heart, and imprinted warm kisses 
upon my cheeks, my lips, my temples! 
How shall I describe the feelings that 
rushed through my veins at that mo- 
ment? Language is by far too weak to 
do justice to them. They must be left 
to the warm imagination of the suscept- 
ible reader! — I was unable to return 
any answer; emotion choked my utter- 
ance, and stifled the words of ecstacy 
that would otherwise have flowed from 
my lips. Again I felt the ardent em- 
brace of that father whose forgiveness 
I had despaired of ever being able to 
obtain; once more I felt the glow of 
his kiss upon my lips, and heard him 
pronounce his forgiveness for the many, 
many hours of bitter agony, of doubt, 
of fear, I had caused him. — Surely an 
age of anguish would have been trifling 
to purchase such a few moments of bliss, 
of exquisite transport, as those I then 
experienced. Again and again he en- 
folded me to his heart, and wept: like 
a child did the poor old man weep tears 
of inexpressible joy and gratitude upon 
my bosom. My mother, too ; what pen 
could sufficiently depicture her emotions 
upon that occasion. — She joined my 
father in the embraces he bestowed up- 
on me, and then we all three knelt, and 
with hearts of sincerity, poured forth 
our gratitude to that Omnipotent being 
who had thrown the Almighty shield of 
His protection around me in hours of 
such eminent peril, and restored me in- 
nocent to the home wherein I had pass- 


108 


MYSTERIES AKD MISERIES 


ed so many days of virtue and happiness, 
and which the wily seducer had endea- 
vored so artfully to make me disgrace 
for ever I 

^ But I will seek out the villain,^ cried 
my father, in vehement tones, after the 
first ebullitions of our joy and, gratitude 
were over ; — * yes I will go to him and 
npbraid him for his base and brutal con- 
duct, and demand of him all the satis- 
faction he can afl*ord! — The feelings of 
affectionate parents are not to be rack- 
ed and insulted with impunity! — No, by 
Heaven, he shall find, that in spite of 
his rank, he shall not escape the just 
indignation of those humble individuals 
whom he would have disgraced and ren- 
dered* eternally wretched. To-morrow 
I will repair to the titled rake, and de- 
mand ^ 

* Oh^ my dearest parent,^ I interrupt- 
ed, ‘pray do not think of such a thing; 
rather leave him to his own conscience, 
which, depend upon it, will sooner or 
later, be a severe monitor to him, and 
amply punish him for his guilt. The 
journey is too long, at your time of life, 
and besides, the result of such an act, 
without affording any satisfaction, might 
be such as I dread even to think upon.^ 

‘ Clara observed my father, Hhink 
you I can tamely brook the injuries I 
have received from the Earl Mansville ? 
Oh, my child, did you but know, could 
you but form the least conjecture of the 
intense agony your disappearance, and 
the fears, the suspicions, that naturally 
resulted from it, caused both me and 
your poor mother, you could not thus 
advise.^ 

‘ Alas 1 ray • dear father,^ I returned, 
* you do me an injury to suppose that I 
have not keenly, severely, felt the mise- 
ry yourself and my dear mother must 


have undergone; in the midst of the lux- 
ury and magnificence that were display- 
ed to ensnare me, it would rise in such 
vivid colors to my imagination, that 
many a time it surprises me how I can 
have retained my senses. Then would 
suspicion of the truth of Mansville rush 
tumultuously upon my brain, and only 
that I had dreaded to meet your reproa- 
ches, long ere this I should have made 
my escape from him, and return to your 
fostering arms. Not able to form any 
conjectures of your suffering? — Oh, my 
father, the imagination constantly haun- 
ted me; — sleeping or waking, it was ev- 
er present to my mental vision ; but the 
deceptive art of Mansville, of which he 
is so consummate a master, never failed 
to use all the powers of his eloquence to 
soothe me, and by specious promises, 
day and day to quiet my apprehension 
— I will own my weakness; — such was 
the powerful ascendancy he had obtain- 
ed over my heart, that I was too ready 
to listen to him; too willing to believe 
that he spoke the truth — Oh, my belov- 
ed parents, do me not the injustice to 
suppose that I could for a moment learn 
to become insensible of the imprudence 
I had committed, or of the consequent 
anguish that I knew it would involve 
you in.^ 

‘ And do you not love Mansville now, 
my child?^ demanded my father, looking 
earnestly in my face. 

' Love him,^ I repeated, and a blush 
of indignation mantled my cheek as he 
spoke; — ‘ Oh, how degraded, how fallen 
I should be, could I now feel anything 
but the utmost disgust and abhorrence 
for one who has acted with such dupli- 
city to me,aud who would have destroy- 
ed the happiness of my parents for ever! 
No, my dear father, the youthful pas- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


109 


sions that are more powerfully excited 
in favor of any particular object, are 
more likely to become changed to those 
of hatred and scorn, when it is discov- 
ered that the being who has , created 
them, has acted the part of a heartless 
traitor,- — the vile deceiver, — It is thus 
with me, Mansville is torn from me for- 
ever; the place which his image occupi- 
ed once, is now replaced by the deepest 
scorn and detestation.^ 

‘ Darling child cried my father, clas- 
ping me again in his arms. ^ There is 
sincerity in every word you utter. Oh, 
how could I ever suspect that you^d 
yield to the temptations of the guilty, 
and abandon the paths of virtue, in 
which you were 1br ought up? This — 
this indeed is a joyful day; such a one as 
I never expected to experience again. — 
Come, come, child, into the house; let 
the blissful news be conveyed to all our 
neighbors, that this day restores a 
daughter, imprudent once, but guiltless, 
to her doating parents^ arms.^ 

* And let the past be forgotten in the 
happiness of the present,’ said my moth- 
er, tears of ecstacy starting to her 
eyes: — ^oh, Clara, you have returned 
at a time when joy predominates in the 
bosoms of those dear friends, with whom 
we have been so long associated. Lit- 
tle did Ellen expect such a happy occur- 
rence on the day of her nuptials ’ 
Encircling my waist with their arms, 
my parents led me affectionately to the 
house, and in a short time I was seated 
at the breakfast table, and about to eat 
of the repast beneath the roof in which I 
had been reared, and from which I had 
been so near being discarded for ever. — 
How shall I describe my feelings on that 
occasion, or those, it was evident, were i 
passing in the minds of my parents. — 


I could scarcely believe that I had un- 
dergone what I had; — that I had ever 
even for a moment quitted my parental 
roof. Everything seemed as it was on 
the eventful morning when I had been 
borne away, and the whole seemed like 
some vision to warn me from the impru- 
dent step I had actually been guilty of. 
The change effected in my father and 
mother in so short a time was most as- 
tonishing. The heavy care, the anguish 
of my father seemed dissipated, and was 
succeeded by joy and gratitude; looks 
of love and intense feeling which he c^- 
stantly beamed upon me; while my moth- 
er could scarcely control her happiness 
within bounds of reason. 

It might be imagined that my heart 
was too full — but it was not so— on the 
contrary, I partook of the repast with a 
relish I never before enjoyed since I had 
quitted my paternal home. I was again 
at home! in the home of my childhood 
restored to the love of my parents; and 
never was the contrast of the comforts 
of a virtuous home, with the empty lux- 
uries of wealth and magnificence, pre- 
sented more powerful to my mind. 

Never shall I forget the felicity I en- 
joyed on that day. In the course of an 
hour or two my brother returned to the 
farm. He embraced me affectionately, 
but his indignation against -Mansville 
was equal to that of my father. 

It appeared that both my father and 
brother, had been indefatigable in en- 
deavoring to trace the earl, but without 
success. 

The day passed away, and at night, 
for the first time in some months, I reti- 
red to my chamber with the blessings of 
my parents. What ecstatic feelings 
thrilled through my veins, when I enter- 
ed the little room where for so many 


110 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


years I had slept, and gazed upon eve- 
ry well known object, which had under- 
gone no perceptible change since I had 
before reposed in it. It seemed indeed, 
to have been unoccupied since the time I 
had been from home; and every article 
I looked upon, appeared not to have 
been disturbed. There was the same lit- 
tle clean bed, with its furniture arrang- 
ed with such admirable care and precis- 
ion — the humble toilet — and everything 
the same as when I had last used it. 
There was the prayer book, the one 
which had been presented to me by my 
father many years before, and in which 
was inscribed his name, with the leaf 
turned down at the particular prayer 
I remember to have used the night be- 
fore my elopement. With a heart over- 
flowing with gratitude, I knelt down, 
and fervently breathed that prayer, and 
to it added one of thanks to Heaven, for 
the manner in which I had been saved 
from the sorrow and disgrace with which 
I had been threatened, and invoked its 
blessings on the heads of my parents and 
my brother. Then, with a lighter heart 
than I had experienced for many a day, 
I retired to my couch, and soon fell off 
into a calm slumber. No painful vision 
haunted my imagination that night; my 
dreams were those of bliss. Of the joys 
of home, and the affection of adoring pa- 
rents; and in the morning I awoke to a 
renewal of that happiness and content, 
which had ever been mine before I be- 
came acquainted with the Earl of Mans- 
ville. 

But what were my sentiments now as 
regarded Mansville ? Need I try to 
portray them? I am certain that I 
need not! They were fully embodied in 
the observations I had made use of to 
my father. The mask which the deceiv- 


er had thrown off, having shown me his 
character in its real light, I thought of 
him only with disgust and abhorrence, 
and had he even then offered to make 
all the reparation in his power, by be- 
stowing upon me his hand, I felt confi- 
dent that I should have rejected it with 
scorn. Great as had been my trial, and 
painful as had been the circumstances 
by which it had been attended, I felt I 
had no cause to regret it now, but, on 
the contrary, to feel, in a manner thank- 
ful that it did occur, as it had taught 
me a a lesson I shall never forget, and 
had afforded me that experience in the 
deceptive practices resorted to by the 
the wealthy and unprincipled of man- 
kind, which would prevent me for the fu- 
ture from approaching the precipice of 
destruction, down which I was so near 
being plunged. 

I arose the following morning at the 
early hour to which I had been accustom- 
ed, and found my father, mother, and 
brother, already assembled in the little 
parlor, and the morning’s repast spread 
upon the table. I could perceive, as 
soon as I entered, that they had been 
discussing something particular, and it 
was not long ere I was made acquainted 
with it. I found that my father and my 
brother had come to the determination 
of going to the Earl Mansville, in spite 
of my entreaties, and the observations I 
had the previous day made use of, to in- 
duce them to abandon their design, and 
such was their eagerness to see Mans- 
ville, and demand an explanation of him, 
that they had resolved not to delay 
any longer than the following day. 

* 1 fully appreciate your motives, my 
dear child,’ said my father, * but, after 
mature deliberation, I cannot consent 
to comply with your wishes. Were we 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


Ill 


to suffer the matter to rest where it is 
it would be yielding a cowardly submis- 
sion to guilt, which my heart revolts 
from; and, moreover, would give the 
foul tongue of slander an opportunity of 
propogating surmises derogatory to your 
reputation. No, nothing will satisfy me, 
but a plain acknowledgment of his guilt, 
and your innocence from his own lips, 
and a sufficient apology to satisfy the 
world at large. Were I to seek repa- 
ration in a court of law, his wealth and 
high rank would be a sure protection for 
him.’ 

'It would,’ coincided my brother, 

' and 1 see no other means of obtaining 
any satisfaction than the course we are 
ab®ut to pursue.’ 

In this opinion, my mother coincided, 
and, much as I dreaded the consequen- 
ces that might attend it, I was at a loss 
for arguments to combat their resolu- 
tions. This day passed away in the same 
manner as the previous one, and the fol- 
lowing morning, after a most affection- 
ate farewell, my father and brother took 
their departure by the coach, for the 
mansion of the Earl Mansville. 

After my father and brother had left, 
my mind underwent several gloomy pres- 
ages, and though I perfectly agreed with 
the propriety of the arguments my fath- 
er had made use of, I could not but sin- 
cerely regret that they had not aban- 
doned their design. 

My mother endeavored to sooth me 
by all the arguments in her power; and 
said that, doubtless Mansville, for his 
own credit’s sake, would be ready to 
make all the reparation that was in his 
power. 

' Alasl’ thought I, ' what recompense 
can he make me for the injury he has in- 
flicted on my peace of mind? Noth- 


ing can make amends for the pain of 
discovering that the only object upon 
which we have placed all our young 
heart’s warmest affections is base,treach- 
erous, and unworthy of that passion; 
and I now as thoroughly despised Mans- 
ville as I had before loved him, for that 
he had thrown a blight upon my mind 
from which I could never thoroughly 
recover. 

We expected the return of my father 
and brother in about three or four days 
from the time they had left home, as 
they would have nothing to detain them 
after they had obtained the interview 
they sought with the Earl Mansville^ as 
they were fully aware that if they pro- 
tracted their presence, it would excite 
our utmost alarm. The fourth and fifth 
day, however, elapsed, and still they re- 
mained absent. Our apprehensions be- 
gan to be excited in the utmost degree, 
and all the fearful forebodings that had 
before haunted my mind, returned with 
redoubled force. 

In spite of all her efforts to appear to 
the contrary, the fears of my mother, 
were, if possible, more excited than my 
own, and conjecture was exhausted in 
vain, to endeavor to account for the pro- 
crastination of their return. 

Another day elapsed in this manner, 
and yet we heard nothing of them, and 
then, indeed, our terrors was aroused to 
an almost insupportable pitch, and we 
no longer sought to disguise from each 
other the real state of our feelings upon 
the agonizing subject. I expressed to 
my mother all those forebodings I had 
before indulged in, and she could not 
but admit the too great probability of 
them. Now did she join with me in 
deeply regreting that my father and 
brother had not yielded to my advice, 


112 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


or that she should have made one to 
urge the propriety of the course they 
had taken. What step to pursue we 
were at a loss to conceive. 

* I cannot wait in this horrible state 
of suspense any longer/ my mother ejac- 
ulated, when the seventh day dawned, 
and we heard no tidings of them; ^ Pll 

instantly take G m, and learn at 

once the cause of this mysterious delay, 
and whether or not anything has hap- 
pened to them. This dreadful state of 
doubt and suspicion is worse than the 
most terrible certainty.^ 

She had scarcely given utterance to 
these words when a knock was heard at 
the outer door, and a letter was present- 
ed to my mother, which she knew imme- 
diately to be in the hand-writing of her 
husband. Trembling violently with ap- 
prehension, she broke the seal, but had 
not read more than two lines when, with 
a piercing scream, she fell senseless to 
the floor. I flew to her, raised her in 
my arms, and then, taking up the fatal 
letter, began to read the contents. The 
commencement of it was enough to 
smite my heart with horror; and it is 
marvellous how, under such trying cir- 
cumstances, I retained possession for an 
instant of my faculties. My unfortu- 
- nate father and brother were in goal, 
accused of murder — of the murder of 
my deceiver, the Earl Mansvillel 
My frantic cries soon brought the 
servants of my father to the room, who 
immediately conveyed my mother to her 
chamber, while I was reduced to such a 
state by the shock which my feelings 
had sustained, that it was found neces- 
sary to call in medical advice to me, as 
well as the former. I remained in a 
state of almost utter unconsiousness for 
several days, during which period I con- 


tinually raved of the murdered Mans- 
ville, and the awful charge which I 
would fain have believed my unhappy 
parent and brother were innocent of ; 
bnt which, under peculiar circumstan- 
ces, seemed, alas! but too probable. 

My mother had been restored to com- 
parative composure much earlier than 
might have been anticipated from the 
violence of the shock her feelings had 
received ; and when I regained my sen- 
ses, I found that she had started, the 
day following the one on which she had 

received the fatal letter, for G m, 

to seek an interview with her wretched 
husband and son, and to obtain an ex- 
planation of the horrible circumstances. 
The person who attended me had the 
utmost difficulty in persuading me not 
to follow her ; and it was only by the 
determined tone in which the medical 
man spoke, stating that the consequen- 
ces of such a journey, in my then state 
of mind, might be productive of the most 
fatal results, that I was prevented from 
putting my wishes into effect. 

Too soon, alas! the horrible particu- 
lars reached my ears, which I will pro- 
ceed to relate as they were afterwards 
detailed by my father. 

It appeared that after my father and 
brother had left home, they immediately 
repaired to the coach-office, ;Where they 
had booked their places the evening be- 
fore, and took their departure for 
G m, whither they arrived the even- 

ing without anything occurring worthy 
of being particularly noticed. As it 
was rather late, they resolved not to vis- 
it the earl till the morning, and accord- 
ingly took up their lodgings at an inn 
in the place. Not feeling disposed to 
go to rest for the present, they thought 
they would take a bit of a walk in the 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


113 


neighboring fields previous to supper, 
and accordingly they walked forth, and 
instinctively directed their footsteps to- 
wards the mansion of Mansville. They 
had proceeded across several fields, and 
had entered upon a dark and gloomy 
lane, which, they had been informed, 
led to his house, when suddenly they 
beheld, by the dim light of the moon, 
the shadows of two men before them, 
one of whom was a short -way in ad- 
vance of the other. They did not take 
particular notice of this at first, as there 
was nothing at all extraordinary in the 
circumstance; yet, when they perceived 
that one of them still kept in the rear 
of the other, and that he was evidently 
fearful of being seen, they determined to 
watch his actions more narrowly. They, 
therefore, kept as close to the hedfie as 
possible, so that they might not be ob- 
served, and yet cautiously kept advanc- 
ing towards the two men, and taking 
particular notice of their actions. The 
one in advance made a motion as though 
refiection was almost too di’eadful for hu- 
he would turn round, when the other 
immediately stepped aside so that he 
could not be seen ; and it then became 
very clear that he was after no good 
purpose, or w’^hy appear so anxious for 
concealment? My poor father and bro- 
ther, therefore, redoubled their speed, 
entertaining strong suspicions that the 
fellow was a highwayman, and that they 
might be the means of preventing, pro- 
bably, robbery and murder. 

They had not proceeded far when a 
turning in the lane hid them from obser- 
vation, and directly afterwards the re- 
port of a pistol vibrated on their ears. 

Fearful, from all they had observed, 
that murder had been committed, they 
now ran with all their speed in the di- 


rection which the two persons had tak- 
en ; and having arrived at a dark and 
lonely spot, to which they were attract- 
ed by groans of agony, they beheld, by 
the faint light of the moon, whose rays 
now penetrated through the thick foli- 
age above their heads, the form of a 
man elegantly attired, stretched upon 
the earth and weltering in his blood, 
while by his side lay tlie pistol with 
which the fatal and cruel deed had been 
committed, and which the assassin had 
left behind him. 

My father raised the unfortunate man 
in his arms, and the moonlight stream- 
ing full upon his countenance, my bro- 
ther suddenly exclaimed, in a voice of 
mingled astonishment and exultation — 

^Ah! by Heaven, retribution has 
overtaken the guilty! It is the villain, 
the betrayer, Mansville!^ 

The fatal words had scarcely escaped 
my brother's lips when a party of men, 
who had also been attracted by the re- 
port of the pistol, rushed to the spot; 
and having overheard what h^said, and 
seeing the wounded nobleman stretched 
upon the earth, and my father and bro- 
ther standing over him — the latter with 
the weapon of death in his hand, be- 
lieved them to be the perpetrators of 
the bloody deed; and accusing them ac- 
cordingly, and seizing them, in spite of 
their remonstrances and solemn protes- 
tations of their innocence, they bore 
them away to the nearest prison, while 
the wounded Mansville was conveyed to 
his mansion. 

My God! how my very soul trembles 
when I recall to my memory this dread- 
ful event, and my blood freezes in my 
veins with the most indescribable sensa- 
tion of horror. Alas! who shall say 
that my sufferings have not indeed been 


114 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


severe! — It is really wonderful how I 
have found strength of mind to endure 
them all; how one so young, and, until 
lately, a complete stranger to misery, 
should be able to bear up under such an 
almost unprecedented accumulation of 
horrors. But my troubles were far from 
being yet complete. 

The unfortunate Mansville was mor- 
tally wounded, and breathed his last be- 
fore morning, never having rallied from 
the first, and having been unable to 
speak after he was first discovered. 
And here must I pause to reflect upon 
the terrible fate of the Earl Mansville; 
as I do so, the remembrance of his 
faults, and his conduct towards me, are 
forgotten in the one strong and irresist- 
ible feeling of pity which inhabits my 
breast. His fate was marked by the 
most signal retribution of Heaven. 
The week following that of his assassi- 
nation, he was to be united to a young, 
beautiful, and wealthy heiress, to whom 
he had been paying his devoirs, at the 
same time he was pleading the most 
powerful passion for me, and most so- 
lemnly protesting, from time to time, 
that he would make me his bride. Ill- 
fated, but guilty Mansville! Heaven 
pardon you for the deception of which 
you were guilty, as I now do. 

My father and Edwin underwent se- 
veral examinations before the justices, 
and evidences of their guilt appeared so 
numerous, that few, if any, attempted 
to defend them. 

It was well known in what manner 
they were related to me, and the circum- 
stances under which I had been placed 
with the murdered Mansville, and, there- 
fore, what had brought my father and 

brother to G ra, but to seek revenge? 

Besides, it was proved by the landlord 


of the inn where they had taked lodg- 
ings, that they had left his house* at a 
late hour in the evening together, and, 
that, previous to doing so, he had a 
conversation with them, in course of 
which they had asked several strange 
questions respecting the deceased Earl 
Mansville, which were quite sufficient 
to strengthen the suspicions that were 
already excited against them; and more 
particularly they had made several in- 
quiries as to the nearest way to the 
murdered nobleman’s mansion, and had 
been directed the exact way in which 
they had been discovered. An inquest 
was held upon the deceased, the jury 
upon which unhesitatingly returned a 
verdict of wilful murder against my 
father and brother; and ultimately they 
were committed to the assizes for trial. 

This was precisely the ^ate of the af- 
fair, when we received the letter which 
was from my father; need it, therefore, 
excite any astonishment that our feelings 
were almost maddening? — The circum- 
stantial evidence against them was very 
strong, and alas! how many innocent 
persons had suffered under far less sus- 
picious circumstances? — The idea was 
enough to freeze the blood with horror, 
and here again did I find cause most bit- 
terly to reproach myself for one act of 
indiscretion which had thus been pro- 
ductive of this awful misery, and might 
be the occasion of bringing my father 
and brother to an awful and ign omin- 
ous fate, for a crime of which they Were 
entirely innocent. 

The day after this, I received a letter 
from my mother, in which she described, 
in language I should fail to do adequate 
justice to, were I to try, the interview 
she had had with her husband and son 
at the gaol in which they were confined. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


115 


but sought to inspire me with hope that 
something would take place to establish 
their innocence, and bring the real per- 
petrators of the horrid crime to justice. 
I tried to think so too. Never, I re- 
flected will the Almighty suffer two in 
nocent beings to suffer for the sanguin- 
ary crime of the real assassin! They 
will be saved, ^ and the monster who has 
committed this atrocious crime brought 
to that punishment which his guilt mer- 
its.^ 

These were but for a short time my 
reflections, then would the heavy weight 
of circumstantial evidence, which would 
be adduced against them on their trial, 
recur to my memory, and despair would 
again begin to settle upon my heart. 

My mother mentioned in her letter 
that the assizes were expected to com- 
mence in about a fortnight, and that, 
until the result of this awful affair was 
known, she intended to reside near the 
gaol, so that she might be enabled to 
visit the unfortunate prisoners every 
day. She added^ that, if I thought my- 
self capable of the task, and able to sup- 
port an interview, I might also repair to 
the spot, leaving the farm for the time 
we were absent to the care of Ellen and 
her husbannd. To remain where I was, 
alone, with no one but Ellen to offer me 
the least consolation or advice, I fel t 
would be worse than death; and, there- 
fore, having made a powerful effort to 
conquer my emotions, I arranged the 
business with Ellen and her husband, 
and with the prayers of my friends for 
the happy termination of the trial, I 
set forward upon my melancholy jour- 
ney. 

What tongue could give utterance to 
the intense agony of my feelings, when 
the coach arrived at G m, the place 


1 which I had so lately quitted to seek 
the forgiveness of my parents. Alas! 
under what different, what horrible cir- 
cumstances did I now return to it. He 
who had^first tempted me to act wrong 
had met with an untimely fate, and my 
father and brother the inmates of a pris- 
on, accused of his assassination. 

The day after my arrival at G m, 

I had an interview with my unfortunate 
relatives, but I must pass over that 
deeply agonizing scene; I cannot recall 
it to my memory without harrowing up 
my feelings. They both, however, at- 
tempted to appear more composed than 
I might have expected them to have 
been, and endeavoured to inspire me and 
my mother with the most sanguine hopes 
as to the result of the trial. We, how- 
ever, could see but very little to excite 
any such ideas, and although, for the 
sake of calming their feelings, we pre- 
tended to place some reliance in what 
they said, we were very far from actual- 
ly entertaining any such feelings. 

I will pass over the time which inter- 
vened previous to the trial, and come at 
length to the morning on which the fate 
of all my family, I might say, depended. 
The hall of justice was densely crowded, 
and the trial excited the most uncom- 
mon interest. Myself and my mother 
were accomodated with seats near the 
dock in which the accused were, and 
whenever, by chance, I happened to look 
up, I caught the eyes of the spectators 
fixed alternately upon me and my mo- 
ther; but in the brief glance which I suf- 
fered myself to take, I beheld that the 
expression with which they contemplat- 
ed us was more of pity than any other 
feeling. 

I know not how it was, but I felt a 
degree of firmness on that awful occasion 


116 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


whicli I never thought it would be in 
my power to assume, and my mother 
was perfectly calm and resigned. As 
for the prisoners, their whole demeanour 
showed the dignified firmness of perfect 
innocence, and a firm reliance on the 
goodness of Providence for the issue. 

The jury having been called over and 
sworn, the trial commenced, and the 
charge having been made, my father and 
brother both answered in a firm voice to 
the usual interrogatory put to them, as 
to whether they were guilty or not guil- , 
ty— 

' Not guilty!’ 

The trial then proceeded, which is 
quite unnecessary for me too recapitu- 
late. 

The jury retired to consider their ver- 
dict — and oh, God! what a moment of 
horrible suspense was that! All eyes 
were turned alternately upon me and 
my mother, and then the prisoners in 
the dock. But the latter were as firm 
as if they had only been spectators them- 
selves, and frequently turned upon me 
and my poor mother glances that were 
meant to encourage us. 

The jury were absent about twenty 
minutes, which seemed as many hours 
to those wha were so deeply and pain- 
fully interested in this important trial, 
and at length they returned into the j 
court. I 

The foreman of the same, in a deep j 
voice said — 

‘ Guilty!’ 

An appalling shriek followed the pro- 
nunciation of the verdict; it proceeded 
from my mother, who sank insensible in 
my arms. It seemed at that time as if 
I were endowed with superhuman pow- 
er; my faculties were all restored to me, 
and I was enabled to support with firm- 


ness that was most extraordinary. The 
verdict had fallen upon my ear, in a man- 
ner of speaking, with complete indiffer- 
ence, and it appeared as if a voice at 
that moment whispered to me hope in- 
stead of despair. But I feared to look 
at my father and his unhappy son. I 
was apprehensive that their bare glance 
of horror and despair would be sufficient 
to deprive me of my senses. The judge 
then proceeded to pass sentence of death, 
but ere he had uttered half-a-dozen words 
a gentleman suddenly arose from his 
seat, and with his whole frame convulsed 
with emotion, exclaimed — 

^ Hold my lord! — ^proceed not to sen- 
tence men who are entirely innocent of 
the charge. 

After the lapse of a minute or two 
for the court to recover themselves from 
the confusion into which this event had 
thrown them, the judge demanded of 
the gentleman the meaning of his inter- 
ruption. 

^ In a few words, it is this,’ said the 
gentleman, ^you behold before you an 
unhappy wretch, who ought to have 
been placed in the dock now occupied 
by those much injured, and wrongly ac- 
cused men. Nay, you may well be sur- 
prised, and it will doubtless be increas- 
ed, when I tell you that in me you be- 
j hold the actual murderer of the Earl 
I Mansville, and I, therefore demand that 
I justice be done upon me!’ 

Nothing could now equal the extra- 
ordinary sensation which prevailed, and 
it was at first, no doubt, immagined by 
many that the gentleman’s feelings who 
had thus denounced himself had been 
worked upon and excited by the circum- 
stances of the trial, and that insanity 
had suddenly seized upon his brain; but 
they were soon convinced of the contra- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


in 


ry, for the self-accused having paused 
awhile to suffer the excitement to sub- 
side, continued — 

* It was this hand which perpetrated 
the hellish deed upon the unfortunate 
Mansville, the pistol which was found 
by the side of the deceased will be seen 
to have my initials engraven upon it.’ 

The pistol was here handed up to the 
judge, when the initials were found. 

The awful tale is soon told,’ continu- 
ed he. 

The late Earl Mansville and myself 
had been companions at college. Soon 
after our return from the university, I 
formed an attachment to a young lady, 
and was permitted to pay my addresses 
to her. This courtship went on for a 
period of two years, when it was sudden- 
ly broken off. In vain I sought an ex- 
planation. Nothing more relative to 
this affair transpired until about a mouth 
ago, when, judge my resentment and sur- 
prise, to learn that the late Earl Mans- 
ville, was the admitted lover of the lady, 
and that their nuptials were actually fix 
ed to take place on a certain day. On 
ascertaining the truth of this, I demand 
ed an explanation of such extraordinary 
conduct; but all that I obtained in re- 
turn, was the most provoking raillery ! 
I quitted the unfortunate nobleman vow- 
ing the most dreadful vengeance. On 
the evening that I committed the hellish 
crime, I quitted my own house, with the 
pistols now produced in my possession, 
fully bent to way-lay and murder my ri- 
val. Once he turned to look round, and 
then I jumped into a dry ditch, and con- 
cealed myself. He resumed his journey, 
and acting under the influence of a sud- 
nen impulse, I presented the fatal weap- 
on at him, and fired, just as he prepared 
to walk on. What followed has already 


appeared in the evidence brought against 
those two men, most wrongfully accused 
As the day of trial approached, so did 
my agony increase. Could I be guilty 
of a three-fold muder? I could not; so, 
this day, I resolved to be present, and 
confess. I admit, that my resolution 
failed me so much, that I was unable to 
put this into effect, until after the trial 
had proceeded to the present length; 
but I have now acquitted my conscienco 
of that additional and heavy sin, and I 
feel content to abide by the consequen- 
ces. I repeat that the men in the dock 
are entirely innocent, and that I only am 
the murderer of the late Earl Mansville. 
I demand that justice be done, and thus 
give myself up to this tribunal to be tri- 
ed and punished by the laws of my of- 
fended country.’ 

A murmur of surprise, horror, and 
satisfaction ran through t he court at 
this remarkable confession, and for a few 
moments, the business was entirely sus 
pended. My mother had recovered, and 
overheard all that had passed. But sud- 
denly, the court was aroused by all the 
the judges rising, and declaring it as 
their unanimous opinion, that the two 
individuals who had been tried had 
been charged and convicted by the jury 
of the murder of the Earl Mansville, 
were now shewn to be clearly innocent, 
that -the court, therefore, annul the ver- 
dict, and ordering them to be discharg- 
ed out of custody, command Richard 
Archibald Holland, to be placed at the 
bar and indicted, upon his own confes- 
sion, for the wilful murder of the said, 
Horatio, Earl Mansville. 

^ My father and brother were immedi- 
ately released from the dock, while, the 
real assassin was placed at the bar. 

But misfortune and I had still got to 


118 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


be longer acquainted; and too soon her 
heavy afflictions came upon me with 
overwhelming force. The shock which 
my mother^s feelings had undergone by 
the recent events had made fearful in- 
roads on her constitution, and it soon 
became too alarmingly apparent, that 
she was sinking under a rapid decline. 
All the medical resources were of no 
avail, and she at length yielded to the 
fearful malady. 

My father and all of us, were incon- 
solable for her loss. 

Only three months after my poor 
mother^s death, my brother was seized 
with a violent typhus fever, which my 
father quickly caught of him. A few 
short months only, consigned those two 
dear relatives to the grave also. Would 
that it had pleased the Almighty to 
take me also, then I should not have 
had to undergo the miseries, the degra- 
dations I have too much reason to fear 
it is yet my lot to suffer. Illness and 
incessant trouble had involved my fath- 
er's affairs in difficulties, from which I 
found it impossible to extricate them. 
Let me draw my melancholy recital to 
a conclusion. Hard necessity drove me 
at last to seek the protection of rela- 
tives, whose jibes and cruelties drove 
me to the life I now lead; and the letter 
you brought me was from the clergy- 
man of our parish, who having learnt 
of my whereabouts, addressed me an 
exhortation to repentance; recalling all 
the incidents of the bitter past. Here 
Clara burst into a fresh flood of tears, 
and owned her intention to quit her pre- 
sent shameful mode of life. 

* And now, Mr. Monteagle,' continu- 
ed Clara, * to prove to you that I am 
really penitent; I will divulge to you a 
contemplated crime, which was planned 


in this very house, and this night it is to 
be carried into effect. Belcher Kay and 
Blodget one night killed a rich old dro- 
ver, and buried him in an old adobe hut. 
They have since learned that Inez, the 
daughter of old de Castro, had taken 
shelter in the building from a storm and 
witnessed all their proceedings. The 
Vigilance Committee are already ap- 
prised of the facts, but in Miss de Cas- 
tro's terror at the fearful scene, she for- 
got the names by which they addressed 
each other; but she is convinced that 
she will know their persons if ever she 
meets them. You. know these villains 
will never consent to live in hourly fear 
of arrest and punishment. They have, 
therefore, determined to attack the man- 
sion of de Castro, at the Mission, rob 
it, and I fear kill his daughter to prevent 
her appearing as a witness against them.' 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


119 


CHAPTER XTL 

INEZ CARRIED OFF. 

In a public room of a tavern in Paci- 
fic street, we shall find Belcher Kay. It 
is night, and through the thick haze of 
cigar smoke which filled the room the 
candles glimmer like distant lights seen 
through a fog. The close atmosphere of 
the dirty room is laden with the odor of 
the said tobacco smoke, and with the 
fumes of rum and whiskey, and through 
the hum of noisy conversation and over 
the occasional bursts of laughter may be 
distinguished the ‘ Hagel und donner’ of 
the Dutchman, the ‘ sacre’ of the French- 
man, and the imprecations which the 
Englishman invokes upon his visual or- 
gans and the crimson tide that circulates 
through his veins. 

At one table sat half a dozen sailors, 
bronzed by the tropical sun of Java, and 
smoking long pipes with enormous bowls. 
At another table sat a group of English, 
French, American and Portuguese, simi- 
larly engaged, while two other tables 
were surrounded by Lascars and Malays, 
who being worshippers of the one race 
of Brahma, the other of Boodha, choose 
to sit and drink apart. Mingled. with the 
men at each table were a number of 
Kanaka and Chilean women, dark-eyed, 
seductive creatures ; all well formed, 
lithe, and graceful, and of all ages vary- 
ing from twelve to eighteen years, for 
beneath the scorching sun of the tropics 
woman advances towards maturity as 
quickly as the rich fruits are ripened and 
the gorgeous flowei-s expanded into beau- 
ty. These lost and degraded creatures 
sat by the side or on the knees of their 
lovers of the hour, their long, shining 
black hair falling in plahs or ringlets 


upon their dusky shoulders, and their 
bosoms very much exposed, and many of 
them smoked cigars with their male 
companions. 

Kay sat apart from the revellers, smok- 
ing a cigar, with his arms folded across 
his breast, a moody and sombre expres- 
sion upon his countenance, and his eyes 
bent upon the dirty floor. He was think- 
ing of the past — thinking, amid the riot- 
ous din of jests and oaths, laughter and 
song, of all that he had been, and of 
what he might have been, of time mis- 
spent, and golden opportunities lost, of 
talents misapplied and energies misdi- 
rected. It was a mournful retrospect 
for the man not wholly lost, his heart 
was not entirely corroded, nor all indur- 
ated by vice and profligacy, the powers 
of his mind had not become sapped by 
the vicious excesses in which he had in- 
dulged; he was capable of forming a 
sound judgement of human actions, both 
his own and those of others ; and to look 
back excited for these reasons, feelings, 
sombre and mournful. The past of his 
life was a dreary waste to look back up- 
on ; he was fully conscious of the fact, 
he was able to discriminate between the 
right and the wrong, and to perceive his 
errors, and he felt at that moment all the 
dreariness, the moral void, of the vista 
upon which he turned his mental vision. 
True, the desert was not entirely with- 
out its oaises ; there were green spots 
breaking the gloomy monotony of its 
arid and cheerless aspect, but these only 
deepened by the contrast the impression 
made by the general barrenness. 

He was roused from his reverie by the 
words of a song sung, or rather shouted 
by one his countrymen — an Englishman 
— a sailor belonging to a vessel then ly- 
ing in the harbor. There was nothing 


120 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


to interest him in the words themselves, 
but they seemed familiar to him, like a 
voice heard in our youth and half forgot- 
ten, which we hear again after a long 
interval of time, and they struck upon, 
his mind by the force of association. In 
his boyhood he had heard .that song, 
which had been a favorite chant with a 
schoolfellow, and the words now called 
up a thousand recollections of the time 
when he had first heard them, just as the 
remembered sound of the church-bells of 
our native place will recall such memo- 
ries when we hear them after long ab- 
sence from the scenes of our early ex- 
istence. To the mind of the robber, pre- 
disposed to reflection, the words of the 
song recalled the school-room and the 
play-ground, with many a reminiscence 
of merry companions and boyish games ; 
and from these his heart wandered to 
the home of his childhood, to the little 
garden into which he had transplanted 
primroses and cowslips from the woods 
to the rippling brook upon which he had 
launched his tiny shipsj to the darkly 
shaded seat under the old elm tree on 
which he had rested when weary, to the 
innocent and smiling faces of his fair- 
haired sisters. 

It was not for the first time that Bel- 
cher Kay, thought of these things — ^it 
was not the first time that they had 
drawn a sigh from his breast ; but, now 
at that distance of space from the scenes 
which he visited in thought, the tide of 
memory rolled over his brain with re- 
doubled volume and force. A melan- 
choly pleasure might hcive been experi- 
enced in travelling over in thought the 
scenes of his youth, but for the reflection 
that between the past and the present 
rose darkly and frowningly one of those 


barriers of crime and folly, which such 
men build up with far more persever- 
ance than they would exert to acquire a 
fame that would endure as long as truth 
and virtue command respect and admir- 
ation. Such a barrier had Belcher Kay 
raised with a diligence and energy which 
he had never displayed in aught worthy 
of praise, and from it he now looked 
back upon the Eden which he had aban- 
doned, with such feelings as may be im- 
agined. 

He was still sitting in the position 
which has been described when Blodget 
entered the room, and, coming up to 
him, clapped his hand upon his shoulder, 
Kay started, but looking up, he was re- 
assured by the recognition of his fellow 
criminal, and extended his hand, which 
Blodget grasped with friendly fervor. 

‘ Come V exclaimed Blodget. ‘I have 
been seeking you everywhere. Let us 
get away from this.’ 

‘ I am ready,’ responded Kay, rising. — 
‘ What’s in the wind now, mate?’ 

Blodget made no reply, but led the 
way into the street, followed by Kay. 

In a few minutes they had left the city 
behind them, and could hear the hoarse 
roar of the sea as its waves, after chasing 
one another over the wild expanse of the 
Paci^c ocean, broke upon the shell strewn 
beach, and the sighing of the night wind 
among the bushes. The moon was sink- 
ing, and the shadows prevailed over the 
lights, but it was principaly the land 
which lay in shade, while the ocean 
spread out like an illimitable sheet of 
silver. 

After crossing the hills which sur- 
mount the city the two men gave a loud 
shrill whistle which in a few moments 
brought three more desperadoes to as- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


121 


sist them in their scheme. This was no 
other than an attack upon the mansion 
of Senor de Castro with the intention of 
making themselves masters of the mon- 
ey and plate to be found on the premises, 
and for another purpose which will ap- 
pear in the course of the narrative. 

When the five robbers arrived in the 
vicinity of the house Bloodget proceeded 
towards it, for the purpose of carrying 
their plot into execution, while the rest 
of the party lay closely concealed ready 
to hasten to the assistance of their asso- 
ciate the moment such service should be 
required. 

* Yes, there is the window ; I wonder, 
now, if she will look out to night said 
Blodget to himself as he cautiously 
drew near the house. 

Blodget took a good look at the win^ 
dow and then slowly glided away under 
the shadow of a wall. 

With great tactj Blodget as he did 
so glided along, kept the little window 
with the balcony in sight. 

Now, the little window of the room in 
which Inez resided, was not very far from 
the ground. 

That is to say, at all events, the lower 
portion of its balcony certainly was not 
above twelve feet from the green sward 
actually below it. 

The idea struck Blodget, then, that 
through tfiat window he must get, and 
through it again he must make his way 
out with his captive. 

How he meant to overcome the very 
many difficulties that still stood in his 
way, it is impossible to conceive; but he 
had not come totally unprepared with 
the means of action. 

Coiled uo in the pockets of the clothes 
which '’'-ad worn all the latter part of 


the day, he had had a couple of ropes of 
silk, with a hook at the end of each of 
them.* 

He expected, and not without reason, 
too, that they would be to him of the 
very greatest possible assistance. 

It took him some little consideration 
before he would venture to cross the bit 
of lawn that.seperated him yet from the 
house; and, strange to say, while he was 
so considering, another circumstance be- 
gan to operate' in his favor. 

A soft, but rather thick and penetra- 
ting rain began to fall. 

‘ Aha” he said ‘this is capitol. This 
will clear the ground of all loiterers. 
This is providential.’ 

Letting the rain continue for some five 
minutes or so until he considered it had 
had all its effect, Blodget crossed the 
lawn, and stood beneath the balcony of 
the window. 

Blodget was very acute in his sense of 
hearing, and he now bent that faculty to 
the very utmost to listen if any one were 
moving in the rooms above. 

All was as still as the very grave. 

‘ She has gone to bed,’ thought Blod- 
get. ‘ Well, I don’t care. I must take 
her away, and take her I wiil.’ 

A very dim light was close to the win- 
dow. 

‘I wonder,’ thought Blodget, if she 
will scream before I can get a gag put 
into her mouth? If she does, I may 
have dangers to encounter; but I never 
yet abandoned an enterprise on that ac- 
count, nor will I now.’ 

Truly dangerous was a climate in 
which such a man as Blodget lived. 

He now looked carefully to the right 
and to the left of the place of which he 
was, so as to assure himself that no sen- 


122 


MYSTERIES AND MISEllIE'8 


tinv'l was close at hand, and then he bold- 
Iv flung up the cords to which the hooks 
ware attached, to the balcony. 

It took him three or four efforts be- 
fore he succeeded in getting the hooks 
to hold fast, and then he found that the 
cords easily suspended him. 

This was rather a ticklish part of the 
business to climb up to the balcony now 
with the possibility, if not the probabili- 
ty, that some one might see him ; but 
yet he meant either to do it or abandon 
the whole affair at once, so he set about 
it with a feeling that might be said to 
approach to recklessness. 

He reached the top of the parapet of 
the balcony, and rather rolled over it than 
stepped over, so that he exposed himself 
to observation to as small an extent as, 
under the circumstances, it was at all 
possible so to do. 

There he lay crouched up in the bal- 
cony, pretty well shaded by its stone 
work and parapet from any further ob- 
servation from without. 

He breathed in rather an agitated man- 
ner for a few moments, for he had under- 
gone, to tell the truth, very great person- 
al exertion. 

Soon, however, he recovered sufficient- 
ly to assist him in going on in his enter- 
prise ; and accordingly, sidling along ve- 
ry carefully till he got quite close to the 
window, he cautiously tried if it were- 
fast. 

No. It yielded to a touch. 

‘ More good fortune,’ thought he. 

Slowly, for it took a good five minutes 
to do, thinking that any noise now occa- 
sioned by precipitation would be fatal to 
him and his project, he got the window 
open about a couple of feet. 

He put his hand into the room, and 


felt that there was a table close to the 
window. 

By carefully moving his hand and arm 
horizontally from left to right and from 
right to left, he found there was nothing 
on the table but a glass of water, in which 
were some flowers. 

In order to get it out of the way, he 
lifted the glass into the balcony, and 
placed it carefully in one corner out of 
the way. 

Then it was that the audacious Blod- 
get, like an oily snake, slid into the room 
through the partially open window, and 
was fairly within the apartment. 

His next step was to remove the table 
from before the window, and to open the 
window itself very much wider — in fact, 
as wide as it would possibly go. 

Then it was that he saw where the 
faint light had come from that was in 
the room. 

A little oil night-light was on a brack- 
et fixed to the wall of the room. 

That light, although very small in it- 
self, was yet sufiicient to dissipate the 
darkness that w^as in the place, and by 
it Blodget with great satisfaction looked 
around him, and was quite convinced 
that he was in the suite of rooms in the 
occupation of Inez. 

There ^Yas one circumstance that to 
him was quite convincing on ^hat head, 
for on the chimney-piece was a small 
but finely painted .miniature of Montea- 
gle. 

‘ Yes,’ whispered Blodget, as he drew 
a long breath, ‘ I am on the right scent 
now.’ 

Immediately opposite to the window 
there was a door that seemed to lead to 
the next apartment. It was a very tick- 
lish thing indeed to open that door. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


123 


Beforo he could at all make up his 
mind to do so, he tried to peep through 
the key-hole of it, but, unfortunately, 
there was on the other side a piece of 
pendant brass that blocked it up, so he 
saw nothing. 

Delay, though, to him now was some- 
thing worse than danger — it might be 
fatal ; so with a feeling almost of desper- 
ation, he turned the handle of the door 
and opened it. 

It led into a room that was, like the 
last one, dimly lighted by a night-lamp 
in a niche in the wall. 

‘,She is fond of lights’ thought Blod- 
get. 

There was a door in the side wall of 
this room, and that door was a little .way 
open. 

Through it Blodget could see the bed- 
curtain. 

The room in which she was, constitu- 
ted the dressing-room to the bed-roora 
further on. 

Blodget, with eyes like a hyena, east 
a glance round the room. A silk dress 
was upon a couch, and on the dressing- 
table were various articles of female ap- 
parel and jewelry 

He approached, on tip-toe, the door 
of the bedchamber, and listened most in- 
tently. 

The sound of one breathing rather 
heavily in sleep, came upon his ears. 

‘ She sleeps,’ muttered Blodget, ‘ and 
my task is consequently all the easier 
of performance. Yes, she sleeps, and 
soundly too.’ 

He now took from his pocket a gag 
made of cork and string, and so con- 
structed that if once fixed in any one’s 
mouth it would be out of the question 
for them to utter an articulate sound. 

This, with a silk handkerchief, which 


he intended to fix around the head and 
face of his prisoner, were the implements 
with which he hoped to capture Inez, 
and by the aid of which so to terrify her 
that he might get away in safety with 
her. 

‘ Now for it,’ he said. 

He took another step towards the 
door of the bedchamber, and then he 
hesitated. 

‘ A good thought,’ he muttered. ‘ I 
will put out both the lights, and then no 
curious eye will see me emerge from the 
window with my prize.’ 

He crept back and blew out each of 
the little oil lamps that were in the sep 
erate rooms. 

All was darkness then ; but it was evi- 
dent there was another lamp in the ac- 
tual bedchamber itself. 

It was convenient for Blodget that 
there should be, at all events for a brief 
space, a light there. 

‘Now courage and impudence assist 
me,’ he muttered. 

As he spoke he on tiptoe glided into 
the bedchamber in which he would have 
wagered his life that Inez now slept. 

The difficulty, though, he thought was 
really an truly at an end, when he, as he 
fancied, found himself so far successful as 
to be actually in the sleeping chamber of 
Ihe young lady. 

No wonder that even he, accustomed 
as he was to all sorts of escapades and 
strange eventful proceedings, felt a little 
affected at his owm tenierity when he set 
foot within the sacred precincts of that 
chamber. 

The idea of what monteagle would 
think and say when he heard of this evi- 
dence of unexampled audacity came 
across the mind of the unscrupulous vil- 
lian, and for a moment he hesitated. 


124 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


It struck hirQ that, after all, such an 
outrage was of so diabolical and daring 
a character, that it would be difficult to 
say what might be the result of it. 

But it was not for long that such a 
man as Blodget ever hesitated about the 
completion of an act of atrocity, or bold- 
ness or baseness. 

‘Let him take it how he may,’ thought 
Blodget, ‘I’ll carry out my designs; and if 
danger should come to Ine* in the carry- 
ing it out, that is her own fault.’ 

He listened intently. 

The regular breathing of some one in 
a deep sleep still came upon his ears. 

Now the chief difficulty was to get 
away with his captive without noise, and 
there was but one way of doing that. 
It was so to terrify Inez, that for her 
life’s sake and that of her father she 
would obey the directions he might give 
her. 

But, then, upon the first impulse of 
finding some one in the room, he consid- 
ered that she might utter some cry that 
to him, would be full of danger ; and to 
guard against that was the first step he 
took. 

There came through the window of 
the sleeping chamber a faint light, which 
just enabled him, after a few minutes, 
when his eyes had got accustomed to it, 
to look about him, and see the outlines 
of one object from another. 

To be sure, thefio outlines were but 
dim ones, but still they served to enable 
him to avoid encountering any piece of 
furniture, and so making noise enough 
to awaken his victim from the sound 
sleep she was in. 

To tie a silk handkerchief in such a 
manner around her mouth, and then an- 
other over her head, so that the possibili- 
ty of uttering anything but a faint sound 


would be out the question, was Blod 
get’s idea. 

Indeed, he had prepared himself with 
the means, as will be recollected, of com 
pietely enveloping the head of his priso- 
ner, so that if any attempted alarm was 
tried, the sound of it would not penetrate 
far enough to be successful in reaching 
the inmates of the house. 

It was a very delicate and ticklish 
job, though, so suddenly to envelope the 
head and face of a sleeping person in a 
silken bandage as to prevent them from 
uttering a single cry until the operation 
was complete. 

But that was just what had to be done, 
and so he did not shrink from it. 

He only waited a few moments long- 
er, in order that his eyes might be accus- 
tomed to the very dim light that found 
its way into the chamber. 

During those few moments, too, he 
turned his head aside to listen if the 
whole attention of his faculty of hearing 
could detect the sound of any one stir- 
ring in the mansion ; but all was as still 
and silent as the tomb. 

‘‘Now for it,’ said he to himself. 

In a half-crouching posture he ap- 
proached tbe bed. 

If what he was about to do was to be 
done at all, it was only by the very ex- 
cess of boldness in the attempt to do it. 

When he reached the side of the bed, 
he rose to his full height, and slipping 
adroitly his left arm right under the 
head of the sleeper, he in one moment 
lifted it from the pillow, and with his 
right hand he placed the silken envelope 
over the bead and face, and drew it close 
round the neck. 

‘ Utter one sound of alarm,’ he said in 
a low, clear voice close to the ear of the 
bewildered occupant of the bed, ‘ and i< 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


125 


is your last upon earth. Be quiet and 
submissive, and no sort of harm is inten- 
ded you. On the contrary, everything 
possible will be done to render your situ- 
ation as agreeable as possible, and you’ll 
be treated with delicacy and with every 
consideration.’ 

A gasping sort of a sob was the only 
reply. 

‘Hush!’ said Blodget. ‘Your fate is 
in your own hands. I am compelled for 
my own sake to remove you from the 
mansion ; but you will be treated with 
all the respect and all the consideration 
becoming your sex and rank, unless you 
by your own conduct, force an opposite 
condition of things.’ 

Some muffled sounds, that might be 
considered to mean anything, came from 
beneath the covering of silk. 

‘ Am I to comprehend,’ said Blodget, 
‘ that your own good sense enables you 
to see the necessity of submitting to cir- 
cumstances that are beyond your con- 
trol entirely V 

A something was said ; or attempted 
to be said. 

‘ Let me assure you,’ added he, ‘that 
I am well aware of the love your father 
has for you, and that he will spare no 
means to liberate you from me. It would 
be quite an insult to your understanding 
to attempt to deceive you for one mo- 
ment with regard to the object of thus 
making you a prisoner. It is simply in 
order to get money from him who loves 
you beyond all the world beside. Do 
you hear me V 

‘ Yes.’ 

The tone in which the yes was spoken 
was very consolatory to Blodget, for it 
let him think that Inez saw the inutility 
of attempting any resistance to him. 

‘ You are reasonable, I feel,’ he said. 


‘ and I can assure you upon my word, 
lightly as you may think of that word, 
that where I am trusted I know how to 
behave myself with honor. The readi- 
ness with which you succumb to circum- 
stances that now surround you will have 
the greatest effect in inducing me to 
make this as agreeable to you as possi- 
sible . Do you comprehend me V 

‘ Yes.’ 

‘Will you, then,’ he said, ‘quietly 
come with me to a place of safety away 
from here V 

‘I will.’ 

‘You will?’ 

‘ Yes.’ 

Then I have to compliment you upon 
your conduct in this affair, and I know 
that by saying that for your sake I will 
not contrive aught against the life of him 
who loves you, I shall be bestowing upon 
you the greatest recompense that’s in my 
power.’, 

‘ Yes.’ 

‘ Then we are equal. Alllow me to 
hope that you will arise and follow me. 
Here are various articles of clothing 
about the room. You have the use of 
your hands, and if I hand the things to 
you, one by one, will you then put them 
on ?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘ I am very sorry to place you in such 
a position as this — very sorry indeed.’ 

Blodget was so pleased at the compli- 
ance of Inez with all his plans, that he 
really felt a kindness for her, and he was 
determined, therefore, to behave to her 
with all the delicacy that the transaction 
could possibly enable him to practice. 

He caught up various articles of female 
apparel, and with his back towards the 
bed. 

‘ Be as qhick as you can,’ he said, ‘ for 


126 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


the fact is that I am in danger here, 
• though you are in none.’ 

‘ Yes, yes,’ said the voice. 

‘ Upon ray life, she must be terribly 
frightened to give way to me in this man- 
ner.’ 

One by one he kept handing articles 
of clothing, and they were put on, till at 
last he said — 

‘ I should think you are ready to leave 
the house now, along with me, are you 
not V 

‘I am so.’ 

‘ Then follow me, if you please ; but 
let me again assure you before I go that 
I am only going to make a kind of hos- 
tage of you, and that as soon as I have 
you in safety I will send to your father 
and let him know ; and upon his prom- 
ise not to molest me for the future, I will 
release you.’ 

‘ Yes.’ 

‘ You are quite content with that ar- 
rangement, then, may I hope ?’ said Blod- 
get. 

‘ Oh, yes, quite.’ * 

‘ Then come on at once, if you please.’ 

Inez felt that resistance would be use- 
less, and would probably put in peril the 
life of her father, without availing to 
save her. She, therefore, quietly yielded 
to circumstances, knowing that her fath- 
er would cheerfully pay any ransom to 
rescue her. 

As soon as Inez was dressed, Blodget 
led her to the window, and giving a low 
whistle was quickly joined by his con- 
federates. By their aid Inez was swiftly 
and noiselessly conveyed from the house, 
carried into the accent shrubbery, 
and placed upon a horse, stolen, like 
those on which the robbers were now 
mounted, from a neighboring corral. 

The whole party immediately dashed 


off at full speed, and never once halted 
until they arrived at a solitary rancho, 
some eight or nine miles distant from 
the home of Inez. 

Monteagle, meanwhile, had started at 
full gallop for the Mission, in order to 
frustrate this villainous plot, but just as 
he was turning' the sharp angle at the 
turnpike road, his horse stumbled, and 
Monteagle was violently thrown over the 
animal’s head. He remained insensible 
in the road, just where he had fallen, 
until daylight, when he was discovered 
and hospitably cared for by the inmates 
of a neighboring cottage. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A DESPERATE BURGLARY. 

Leaving Inez in charge of some of 
his trustiest confreres, Blodget hastened 
to the city, to disarm suspicion as well 
as to attend to an injportant robbery 
which he had already planned. 

A previous arrangement with some of 
the principal members of the gang had 
assured Blodget that he should find plen- 
ty of aid in carrying out his views on 
that particular evening. 

It was two o’clock as Blodget reached 
the door of the house that was connected 
with the gang, and a drizzly rain was be- 
ginning to fall which he saw and felt 
with pleasure, for he knew that it would 
materially aid him in his plans, as it would 
tend to clear the streets of stragglers, as 
well as to muffle any. sounds that might 
otherwise betray the presence of himself 
and his companions. 

‘ All is well,’ he said. ‘ This is ray old 
good luck. Who knows but I- may yet 
do a good stroke of business,’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


Blodget was soon in the old house 
along with some half dozen of the most 
desperate and knowing thieves in San 
Francisco. 

A dim light burned in the place, which 
was only just sufficient to let them see 
each other’s faces. 

The falling of the rain upon one of the 
windows was the only sound that the 
night brought forth. 

‘ All’s right,’ said one of them. ‘ Here’s 
Blodget. 

^ Yes,’ said another, ‘ we shall now no 
doubt have a job to do.’ 

‘ Yes, my lads,’ said Blodget, assuming 
an air of reckless jocularity, which he 
often thought proper to put on — ‘yes, 
my lads, you will have a little job to do, 
and it is one that you will like too.’ 

‘ Bravo ! — bravo !’ 

‘ You know me, and that it is not likely 
I should send you on a profitless expedi- 
tion ; but there are a few little arrange- 
ments to make before we start.’ 

‘Name them.’ - 

‘ I will. They relate, in the first place, 
to who is to have the command of these 
little expeditions V 

‘ Oh, you, of course.’ 

‘ Is that then thoroughly understood 
and agreed V 

‘Yes, yes.’ 

‘Very well, then. The next point is as 
regards the division of the spoil.’ 

‘ Yes, that should be well understood.’ 

‘ It must be well understood or I am ofl: 
to find some others to help me in the 
matter. I have thought over my terms, 
and I do not, I assure you, intend to 
flinch from them.’ 

‘ What are they V 

‘ Listen, then. Let all the plunder be 
fairly divided into two parts, I *will then 
take one part to myself and my friend. 


127 

Kay, and you ean divide the other among 
you in equal shares.’ 

The thieves looked rather blank at this 
proposition, and Blodget seeing that, 
added — 

‘ Well, if you don’t like that you have 
but to say so, and our bargain is at an 
end ; but if I get all the information, and 
put up a robbery in the safe and quiet 
way that I can do it, I think myself en- 
titled to the share I speak of, and I will 
have it too.’ 

‘Be it so, then,’ said the spokesman of 
the party, ‘ I agree, and I’m sure I can 
say the same for my friends here. We 
all agree to it.’ 

The others seconded the words of theii 
spokesman, so that Blodget found he had 
made a pretty good bargain with the 
thieves, and he set to work arranging the 
robbery with all the tact and all the in- 
genuity he could bring to bear upon such 
an enterprise. 

When such an accomplished hand as 
Blodget took so much trouble, the re- 
sult was all but certain. 

‘ Meet me,, all of you,’ he said, ‘ in half 
an hour’s time by the corner of Jackson- 
and Commercial-streets, and I will take 
you to the place. There will be no diffi- 
culty at all about it if you take care to 
comprehend what I wish each of you to 
do, and take care to do it as promptly as 
you possibly can.’ 

‘Trust us for that,’ said one. ‘We 
know we can depend upon you, so you 
have only to say what you wish and you 
will soon see it accomplished.’ 

With this understanding, tlien, Blod- 
get, left them to proceed to a junk store 
which he knew was always open, to a 
particular knock, at any hour ofAhe 
night. 

There Blodget bought a complete set 
of skeleton keys, besides such other little 


128 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


implements used in the art or profession 
of housebreaking, and concerning which 
the people of the shop asked him no 
questions. 

Thus provided, then, he took his way 
to the corner fixed on, there to wait the 
arrival of his confederates. 

He had not to wait long. 

In the course of two or three minutes 
the four men that he had deputed there 
to wait him were upon the spot. 

‘You are punctual,’ said Blodget. 

‘ We ought to be.’ 

‘ How it rains,’ said one. 

‘ Yes ; but that is all the better for us, 
you know,’ said Blodget. 

‘ It is indeed.’ ‘ 

‘ I say,’ said another, ‘ there is a watch- 
man coming, and holding his hand be- 
fore his lantern so as to get a good look 
at us.’ 

‘ Confound him !’ 

‘ Step aside,’ said Blodget, ‘ I will con- 
front him.’ 

A watchman who happened to be 
wakeful had chanced to see them all 
meet at the corner, and had hurried to- 
wards them, expecting that they were af- 
ter no good. 

‘Hilloa — hi’.loal’ he said. ‘Come 
now, what do here at this time of night !’ 

‘ What’s that to you V said Blodget. 

‘ What’s that to me V 

‘Yes.’ 

\ Why, don’t you see who I am V 

‘ Yes, that’s seen in a moment ; you 
are a troublesome fool, but I don’t know 
why I should be bothered with you.’ 

‘ Curse me, then, if I don’t lock you 
up. Come along, will you ? Don’t re- 
sist, now. Come along.’ 

Blodget snatched the lantern from the 
hand of the watchman, and with one 


blow of it on the top of his head not 
only smashed the lantern but nearly stun- 
ned its owner, who lay sprawling on the 
ground, and calling out murder. 

‘Jump on him !’ said Blodget. 

‘ Take his lantern,’ said one of the 
thieves, ‘ and his rattle.’ 

‘ Ah, his rattle,’ said Blodget, as he 
suddenly stood upon the fallen watch- 
man, and nearly squeezed the life out of 
him. ‘ I have it, and now come on. It 
seems to me as if he could not very well 
move now.’ 

This was the fact. The brutal assault 
that had been committed on the un- 
fortunate watchman had really for a time 
deprived him of all power of speech or 
movement, and Blodget and his gang 
went on with perfect ease and compo- 
sure. 

‘ This way,’ said Blodget, as he crossed 
the road to the back of some low stores. 

‘ This way.’ 

‘ Hilloa !’ said another watchman, ‘ did 
I hear a row ?’ 

‘ Yes,’ said Blodget, as he struck him 
such a blow in the face with the butt of 
a revolver he had in hand that he fell 
like a corpse. 

‘ He’s quieted,’ said Blodget. 

The four thieves really looked at each 
other with some alarm, and one of them 
said — 

‘ You have a good kind of way of 
quieting people, Mr. Bloget, I rather 
think.’ 

‘Yes. But don’t call me Mr. Blodget ; 
call me Captain, if you please ; but if 
you use my name it may reach ears that 
it is not intended for.’ 

‘ That’s right, Mr. , Captain I 

I mean. Are we near the place, though?’ 

‘Yes close to it.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


129 


‘Ah, T?hat is that V 

The sharp whistle of a watchman broke 
upon the stillness of the night air. 

‘ This way — this way,’ said Blodget. 
‘ Let us hide for a moment or two. 

The five got under a doorway, and 
there they hid and let no less than four 
watchmen run past them in the direction 
of the sound of the whistle. 

No more of the guardians of the night 
seemed to be coming that way, so that 
Blodget came forth from the hiding 
place with his friends and went quietly 
on. 

All was dark, the guests had departed, 
and the street in which the lady resided 
was restored to its usual equanimity for 
the night. 

There was not the least appearance of 
any light in any of the windows in the 
front of the house ; but Blodget hardly 
supposed that such a residence would be 
left entirely without light in any of the 
rooms, so he fully expected that some of 
the back windows would no doubt show 
symptoms of the apartments being in 
some degree illuminated. 

‘ Halt ! This is the house,’ he said. 

. ‘ All right, captain.’ 

‘ Now attend to me all of you, and you 
will knoAV what you have to do- I will 
manage to open the door, and then you 
will remain just within it on the watch.’ 

‘Yes, captain.’ 

‘ You will take charge of the pantry, 
which I will point out to you, and possess 
yourself of all the portable plate,’ 

‘ I’ll do it, captain.’ 

‘ You, then, will ransaek the rooms on 
the fiffst floor.’ 

‘All’s right.’ 

‘ And you will follow me.’ 

‘ I’ll do it, captain. Now we inow 


what we have all got to do, and can do 
it well.’ 

‘ You can if you will ; and remember 
that we all assemble here in the hall 
again as soon as possible, and that if the 
one who is to keep guard at the door 
sees proper to give an alarm, it shall be, 
with a whistle such as no doubt in the 
night time will bo distinctly heard by all 
of you.’ 

‘ I have a whistle in my pocket,’ said 
the fellow, ‘ that I’ll warrant you will all 
hear.’ 

‘ Then that is settled ; so now let us 
go to work.’ 

Blodget himself commenced the at- 
tack upon the door, and he did so with 
amazing tact. 

With one of the picklocks he had in 
his possession he easily turned the lock 
of the door, and then he found that he 
was impeded by a couple of bolts and a 
chain. 

To most persons these would have 
been rather insurmountable obstructions, 
but to him they only required a little 
time and skill and perseverance to over- 
come them. 

With a fine and exquisitely tempered 
saw, which was so thin that he got it be- 
tween the door and the joist, he managed 
to saw them both in two in a very short 
space of time. 

The door was now only fastened by 
the chain. 

‘Is it done now?’ asked one of the 
thieves. 

^ Not yet.’ 

‘ Soon V 

‘ Yes. Why do you ask V said Blod- 
get. . 

‘ I think — I may be mistaken though 
— but I think some one looked out at 


130 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


one of the windows oi the house opposite 
rather more earnestly than they ought 
to have done.’ 

‘ The devil they did.’ 

‘ Yes, I think so.’ 

‘ A man or a woman 

‘ It is too dark to say.’ 

‘ Curses on them, be it whom it may !’ 

‘ Amen to that, captain.’ 

* But you are quite sure you saw some 
one, bo it man or woman V 

‘ Yes, I am.’ 

‘ Then go over two of you to the door, 
and wait there for a few moments while 
I work at this chain.’ 

‘And if any one comes out ?’ 

‘ Well V 

‘ What shall we do V 

‘ Do you ask me what you shall do 
while you have the use of your hands? 
It won’t do to make a noise, so I should 
say that the only thing open to you to 
do is to throttle any one who should ap- 
pear.’ 

‘ Throttle !’ 

‘Yes, and why not? Pray what busi- 
ness have the people opposite to inter- 
fere in my affairs, L should like to know ?’ 

‘ Well, certainly — but — but ’ 

‘ Do you hesitate ?’ 

‘No — no. Don’t be in a passion, cap- 
tain. If it must be done, why, it is no 
use saying anything more about it, and 
it just will be done.’ 

‘ I should imagine so.’ 

The two men who had been thus or 
dered over the way by Blodget went up- 
on their errand ; and although it is true 
they had at first rather started at the 
idea of throttling somebody who might 
be so very interfering and imprudent as 
to come from the opposite house, it is yet 
difficult to say whether after all, this ad- 
monition of Blodget was not very great- 


ly increased by the ofl-hand manner in 
which he proposed to get rid of obstacles 
to the progress of the particular little 
enterprise upon which he was. 

‘ Curses on it ?’ muttered Blodget to 
himself, ‘it seems as if I were fated to 
be thwarted to-night.’ 

He saw his two companions take up 
their station on the opposite door-step, 
and then he set to work upon the street- 
door chain. 

It was rather a peculiar process by 
which he Blodget got rid of the obstacle 
to his progress. 

Having sawed the bolts and opened 
the locks he could just get the street- 
door open as far as the slack of the chain 
would allow it to go, but although that 
was not above a couple of inches in all, 
yet it was sufficient for his purpose, as 
will be very quickly seen. 

He took from his pocket a very pecu- 
liar shaped iron instrument, capable of 
very great extension as regarded length 
by other pieces fitting into it like the 
joints of a fishing-rod, only that the sock- 
ets were squared, so that they fitted quite 
tifjht and would not turn. 

One end of this instrument he fixed 
in a link of the chain, and then he 
lengthened it about two feet and fitted 
a cross piece on the end, so that he had 
a very good amount of leverage to work 
with. 

Blodget gave this instrument about 
three rapid turns, and then the iron 
chain broke in two or three places and 
hang uselessly from the door in the pae 
sage of the house* 

‘ It is done,*' he said, ‘Come in.’ 

The two thieves who were still with 
him now crept into the hall, and at that 
moment Blodget heard a noise opposite. 

He who had seen a head project from 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


131 


an opposite window had not been de- 
ceived. A man at the house opposite 
had chanced to see the persons on the 
door-step, and being a very cunning sort 
of individual, instead of giving a noisy 
alarm at once, which would have had 
the effect of scaring the thieves off, he 
thought he would gently slip out, and 
run to the nearest policeman and tell 
what he had seen. 

With this view he had hurriedly dress- 
ed himself and slipped down stairs. He 
opened the door with the utmost caution, 
and then made a dart into the arms of 
the men, who were there waiting for him 
so quietly and patiently. 

This sudden capture of the man from 
the opposite house was the noise that 
Blodget had heard opposite just as he 
had succeeded in removing the last ob- 
stacle to getting an entrance to the hall 
of the house. 

The attack upon the man was so sud- 
den, and withal so totally unexpected by 
that individual, that, for the moment, he 
was too terrified to cry out. 

That moment was precious to him, for 
before he could recover presence of mind 
sufficient to have the least idea of what 
best to do, one of the thieves had him 
by the throat with such a clutch that he 
began to get black in the face. 

Blodget ran over from the other side 
of the way in another moment. 

• Who is it V he asked. 

* Somebody going, no doubt, to give 
an alarm,’ said the man who had hold of 
him. 

‘Now is that possible V said Blodget. 

‘ It is, captain.’ 

‘ Dear me, what interfering people 
there are in the world, to be sure. Has 
he a cravat on V 

‘ Yes, captain.’ 


‘ That will do.’ 

Blodget took the unfortunate man’s 
cravat from his neck, and in another mo- 
ment wound it round again so tightly 
and tied it in a knot behind, that his 
doing more than just slightly breathe 
was out of the question. 

‘Now,’ he added, ‘one slight tap on 
the head just to make him remember 
us, and all is well.’ 

The tap on the head that Blodget so 
facetiously called a slight remembrancer 
consisted in a severe blow with an iron 
jemmy, beneath which the victim fell to 
the ground as if he had been strrok 
dead. 

‘Push him into his own passage,’ sau 
Blodget, ‘and then close his door quietly. 
It will be quite a pity to disturb the, 
no doubt, highly respectable family to 
which he belongs.’ 

This was done, and with so little trou- 
ble, too, had the whole affair been ac- 
complished that the man was disposed 
of, and Blodget was back again to tho 
house before one would have thought it 
possible to do so much.’ 

‘ Now, come in all of you,’ he said. 

‘Yes, captain.’ 

‘ You did that well, captain.’ 

‘ Hush, we will talk about that anoth- 
er time, when we have plenty of time to 
do so, for we have none now.’ 

‘ Yes, captain.’ 

‘You know your seperate directions 
now. Here we are in the house, and our 
grand object is, of course, to do our 
work here and then to get out of it as 
quickly as we can.’ 

‘ Yes — yes, that’s it.’ 

‘A light!’ 

One of the thieves — it was the one 
whose appointed duty it was to go up 
stairs with Blodget — lit a loco foco 


132 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


match, and then as it burned up thej all 
started, for one of the first things they 
saw was a servant apparently fast asleep, 
but, in reality, dead drunk in a huge 
chair. 

‘ Confound the rascal,’ said Blodget, 
who now would have supposed he was 
so near to us ?’ 

^ He sleeps.’ 

‘ Are you sure of that ? Is it a cat’s 
sleep V 

‘ No, captain, that is a sound sleep. 

‘ It looks sound.’ 

He is as drunk as blazes, captain, I 
-Au see. Ah, he has been at the decan- 
kjfs and bottles after the guests have 
gone.’ 

‘ No doubt about that,’ said Blodget, 
with a smile ; ‘ and I don’t mind saying 
that it was a part of my calculation 
in this little aftair, that the servants 
would be mostly drunk, and so in too 
deep a sleep to hear us, or to mind us 
if they did hear us.’ 

‘ Ah, captain, you know how to act 
about it, if any one in the world does.’ 

‘ What is to be done with this fel- 
low V said one of them. 

‘Nothing: let him be. Now furnish 
yourselves with lighted tapers, and let us 
set to work.’ 

Each of the thieves in the course of 
another moment had a little piece of 
lighted taper in his hand, and it had the 
advantage that it could be, by a little 
pressure of the finger and thumb, stuck 
on any convenient place in an instant. 

‘ Now, quick, all of you,’ added Blod- 
get, ‘ and you follow me.’ 

He spoke to the one whose appointed 
duty it was to do so, and then at two 
steps at a time Blodget ascended a stair- 
caise. 


When they got to the first floor land 
ing, Blodget and the man who was with 
him both stopped, and sitting down on 
the stairs, they drew rapidly over their 
boots, each of them a pair of thick wor- 
sted socks, so that their footsteps were 
really quite inaudible after that. 

Neither did they leave any signs of 
footmarks any where, which otherwise, 
coming out of the wet' street, they might 
have done ; and any attempt to trace 
them beyond the first floor, after they 
had put on the socks, would have been 
very diiSicult indeed. 

‘ This a good dodge,’ whispered the 
thief to Blodget. 

‘ Yes, but still be as quiet as you can. 

‘ I will.’ 

‘ This way. This way.’ 

The thief was of rather a loquacious 
order of men. Perhaps, after all, he was 
a little terrified at the situation in which 
he found himself, but certainly he could 
not, or would not, obey Blodget’s injunc 
tions to silence. 

Blodget would, under any other cir- 
cumstances, have quarrelled with him 
for his contumacy, but just then he did 
not think proper to do so, as he could 
not tell what emergency might arise in 
which he might require the best ser- 
vices of his companion, with good will 
to render them; so did he answer him, 
although it was as shortly as he possibly 
could, to be at the same time at all con- 
sistent with civility. 

They made their way up to the second 
floor of the house, on which the sleeping 
apartments were situated. 

On a gilt bracket, fixed about twelve 
feet high in the wall of the sort of cor- 
ridor which ran the whole length of the 
house, Blodget saw a night lamp burn- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


133 


ing, and hy its aid he was able to distin- 
guish (iifferent doors of the sleeping 
porti(ni of the house. 

The man who was with him, and who 
was naminl Ben, saw Blodget looking 
about him. 

‘Don’t/you know the room V he said, 

‘Yes — oil, yes; all’s right.” 

‘ Well, that’s a comfort. Do you know, 
captain, that it ain’t pleasant to be so far 
off ill the street V 

‘Why so?’ 

“Been use, if there should be a row, 
how are we to get off?’ 

‘Pshaw ! I never contemplate anything 
of the sort.’ 

‘ Oh, you don’t V 

‘ No ; and if you will but be a little 
cautious and careful in what you say, 
we shall tlo well enough. 

‘ Trust me for that.’ 

‘Curse you,’ thought Blodget to him- 
self, ‘ for a chattering parrot. It is the 
last time I will take you with me upon 
an expediiion of this sort.’ 

Blodget carefully now laid hold of the 
handle of tiie bed-room door, and gave 
it a qin<jk, sharp turn at once. He knew 
that that was the best way to prevent it 
from making any rattling or squeaking 
sound. 

The door remained fast. 

Blodg<-t turned the handle again to its 
proper position, and stood quiet for a mo- 
ment. 

It was quite clear that the bed-room 
door was fast on the inside in some way, 
and if it was a night bolt, the difficulty 
of getting rid of such an obstruction 
was rather serious. 

That is to say, it was serious as re- 
garded time, for he was well prepared 
with any means for getting over such an 


j obstacle, if he had but the time given 
him to do it in. 

‘ Step this v/ay,’ he whispered to the 
man who was with him. 

‘ Y es — yes.’ 

‘ Blodget led him to the top of the 
stair ase, and then added — 

‘ Y^ou will stay here till I come to you 
again — keep your eyes and your ears 
open. There is a night-bolt to the room 
door, and I have the job of cutting my 
way to it. It will take me five minutes.’ 

‘Yes — yes.’ 

‘ Be vigilant and quiet. 

‘ I will. Captain.’ 

‘ And don’t stir from this spot.’ 

‘Trust me for that. I will sit down 
on the top stair here.’ 

Not a sound came from whoever slept 
in that apartment, and Blodget congrat- 
ulated himself upon having got so far 
without his giving the smallest possible 
alarm. 

Passing his arm through the little hole 
in the door, now, he carefully lifted the 
night-bolt, and the door was, in a mo- 
ment, open. 

‘ It is done,’ thought he. 

As he now paused for a moment he 
took a half mask of black crape from bia 
pocket and put it over his face, so that 
he was effectually disguised and then he 
stepped back to the stair head where he 
had left his assistant, Ben. 

Ben was still sitting on the topmost 
stair, and leaning forward to catch any 
sounds that might come from the lower 
part of the mansion. 

Blodget placed his hand upon Ben’s 
shoulder, and whispered in Lis ear the 
one word — 

‘ Now r 

Ben started, and turning his head, the 


134 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


first thing he saw was the black mask, 
and not expecting it he gave such a start 
of surprise and terror that he was on his 
feet in a moment. 

No doubt he thought his infernal 
majesty had all of a sudden found him 
out, 

‘ Murder ! ’ he said. ‘ Oh, Lord ; 
no 1 ’ 

‘ Silence, idiot !’ muttered Blpdget, as 
he placed his hand over Ben’s mouth and 
cautioned him to quietness. 

The sudden consternation of Ben all 
evaporated before the sounds of Blodget’s 
voice. 

‘ You cursed fool,’ said Blodget in his 
ear, ‘ what do you mean by uttering an 
exclamation of that sort ?’ 

* T — I didn’t know.’ 

* You didn’t know V 

‘ No, captain ; I think I was in a sort 
of a brown study, you see, and so I — ’ 

‘ Silence 1’ 

‘Yes, captain.’ 

‘ Who is there V said a voice from the 
room, ‘who is there V 

‘ Hush,’ said Blodget as he clutched 
the arm of Ben, and they both stood like 
statues. 

Ben shook in every limb. 

‘ Did you speak ? ’ said the voice 
again. 

‘ Be still,’ said Blodget. ‘ Don’t move, 
on your life, Ben.’ 

‘ I won’t. Oh — oh ! It’s all ’ 

‘ What V 

‘ Up with us,’ 

‘ No, fool, it is not if you keep yourself 
(|uiet.’ 

‘I will. 

Blodget ran back to’ the door in a 
moment, and he drew it close shut. 

‘ I’m sure I heard a voice,’ said the 


same person. ‘ Kitty — Kitty, - 1 say. 
The wench is fast asleep. Kitty, I 
say.’ 

‘ Yes, madam,’ said a sleepy voice, and 
a door opened from the lady’s room into 
another smaller one that adjoined it, and 
a young girl, in her night dress, appear- 
ed. 

‘Did you hear anything?’ 

‘Yes, ma’m.’ 

‘What?’ 

‘ You call me, ma’m.’ 

‘Tut — tut! I don’t mean that; but 
did you hear anything else before I call- 
ed you ?’ 

‘ No, ma’m.’ 

‘ Well, I thought I did.’ 

‘You was a dreaming, raa’m, I sup- 
pose.’ 

‘ I suppose I was. See if the night- 
bolt is all right, Kitty, before yoii go to 
bed again.’ 

‘ Yes, ma’m.’ 

‘ I feel so nervous to-night ; I don’t 
know why.’ 

Blodget felt there was danger now 
unless he could adroitly put the night- 
bolt in its place again. The diflSculty 
to do so without being seen, and in a 
hurry, too, without making any noise, 
was very great, but if any man living 
could do that, that man was Blodget. 

Kitty, fortunately for him, was half 
asleep, and she shuffled along the floor 
in such an odd, dev^ious kind of way, 
with her eyes scarcely open enough to 
see at all where she was going, that she 
gave Blodget every chance. 

It happened, too, that as she went she 
completely obstructed the lady’s view of 
the door. 

Blodget put his hand in the little ori- 
fice he had cut in the panel, and replac- 
ed the night-bolt. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


135 


He was only just in time. 

* Is it all right ?’ said the lady. 

*Oh, yes, ma’m.’ 

‘You are sure ?’ 

‘ Yes, ma’m.’ 

‘ Then it could not have been any- 
thing surely; I was dreaming. But it 
is no matter, you can go to bed again, 
Kitty. Dear me, what are you about 
now V 

Kitty had, in her half sleepy state, ran 
against the foot of the bed and shaken it 
well. 

‘Eh ? Oh, ma’m, I beg your pardon, 
I think I am a little drowsy, you see, 
ma’m.’ 

‘ A little drowsy indeed I Plague take 
the girl, she is dead asleep. Go to bed 
directly.’ 

‘Yes, ma’m.’ 

Kitty did manage to steer herself now 
clear of the various articles of furniture 
in her mistress’s room, and to pass 
through the door that led to her own, 
and in another moment she was again 
fast asleep. 

‘ Dear me,’ said the lady, ‘ I do feel ner- 
vous to night, to be sure, and I don’t know 
why.’ 

Ting — ting — ting! went the little bell 
of her repeater watch as she pressed the 
spring of it. 

‘ Three o’clock,’ she said. ‘ Well, I’d 
better try to go to sleep, I suppose, while 
I can.’ 

She did not utter another word, and 
in a few moments the most deathlike si- 
lence was in the room again. 

Blodget put his hand in the little cir- 
cular hole in the door, and drew up the 
bolt once more. 

‘ Curses upon all this delay,’ he said to 
himself, ‘ we shall have the daylight upon 
us soon.’ 


This was indeed so, as another hour 
would without doubt bring the dawn, and 
then the situation of Blodget and his 
companions in iniquity would be rather 
perilous. 

There were many other circumstances 
which rendered it desirable to be quick 
about the affair. 

In the first place the collision with the 
watch had no doubt been, by that time, 
communicated, and no doubt the police 
were active. 

Then again, as the man in the house 
over the way had after all only been 
stunned, there was no saying when he 
might sufliciently recover to give an al- 
arm. 

From all these reasons Blodget felt the 
necessity of bringing the job to a speedy 
end, and with such a determination ho 
then crept very quietly into the lady’s bed- 
room. 

In the dim light of the bed-chamber, 
he looked like some evil spirit as he stood 
casting a broad shadow on the bed and 
its occupant. 

For a moment, he considered what to 
do, and then he stepped up to the bedside 
and said : — 

‘ Give any alarm and you die — be still 
and you live 1 Be quiet — quite quiet, 
for your life’s sake,’ 

The terrified woman opened her eyes 
and uttered a faint cry. 

‘ Yes, ma’ra,’ said Kitty from the next 
room. 

‘ Curse you!’ cried Blodget. 

He took a revolver from his pocket, 
and held it to her head, saying in a calm 
tone: — 

‘ If you wish to save your life you will 
be quiet. It is your jewels, plate, and 
money I come for, not your life, but if 
you place it as an obstacFe in the way. 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


• 136 

that obstacle muow ue removed. You un- 
derstand me/ 

‘ A robber 

‘Yes/ 

‘A house-breaker?’ 

‘ Just so/ 

‘Yes, ma’m,’ said Kitty, blustering in- 
to the room with her eyes half shut as be- 
fore. ‘ Did you call me V 

* Yes,’ said he, stepping up to her, rnd 
placing his hand right over her mouth ; 
and then in her ear he said — 

‘ Kitty, if you speak one word or ut- 
ter one scream, or make the least noise, 
I will cut your throat from ear to ear this 
moment/ 

Kitty stopped short, and looked as if 
she had been suddenly turned to stone. 
Blodget placed her in a chair, and catch- 
ing up a handkerchief, he tied it in her 
mouth, and round the back of her head, 
and so on to the back of her chair, like a 
bit. 

‘Now be quiet,’ he said. 

Kitty sat profoundly still ; indeed, her 
faculties had received such a shock that 
it would be some time before she’d recov- 
er again. 

The lady sat up in bed. 

‘ You wretch ! What on earth do you 
want ? 

‘ Plate — ^jewels — money.’ 

‘ There is my purse on the dressing- 
table — the plate is in the pantry down 
stairs/ 

‘ And in the little secret cupboard at 
the back of this bed, you know it is, 
madam/ 

The lady uttered a groan. 

‘ I will trouble you to get up/ 

‘ Oh, no — no !’ 

‘ But I say, oh, yes — yes. Now if you 
please. 

Without any further ceremony, Blod- 


get took her by the arms, lifted her out 
of the bed, and put her on the floor. He 
then went to the door and cried, in a low 
tone — 

‘Ben V 

‘ I’m coming,, said Ben, as he entered 
the room. 

‘ Keep watch over this lady, Ben/ 

‘ Oh, yes.’ 

‘And if she tries to get away, or if 
she gives alarm, you will be so good as 
to cut her throat, Ben/ 

‘ Oh, yes/ 

‘ And don’t make a bungling job of it 
while you are about it. If you have to 
do it all, do it with humanity — that is 
to say, do it at once and effectually/ 

• Oh^ yes ; trust me for that, captain/ 

The lady was now really alarmed. 

Ben took from his pocket a large 
clasped knife, the blade of which he 
opened in a ferocious kind of way with 
his teeth, and with that in his hand, he 
kept an eye upon her. 

Blodget now sprang upon the bed, 
and tearing down some of the hangings 
from the back part of it, he saw a small 
square door in the wall. It was not fast- 
ened. 

No doubt the secrecy of the position 
of that receptacle for valuables was much 
more relied upon by the lady than any 
sort of lock or fastening. 

The fact was, that when once it was 
found out that that was the hiding 
place for the valuable ^ property that 
could be put in it, the security was gone. 

No lock or bolt could for many mo^ 
ments have added to it in any shape or 
way. 

Blodget saw at once when he pulled 
open the door that he had received cor- 
rect information. Immediately within 
the little square door were some shelves 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


137 


built in the thickness of the wall, and 
upon them a heap of property of a valu- 
able and portable nature. 

Bracelets — rings — necklaces — watch- 
es — spoons — gold quartz — and jewellery 
of all descriptions, met the gaze of the 
robber as he glanced upon the shelves. 

‘ All right,’ said he. 

The lady was a bold woman, and she 
had kept her eye upon Blodget, and 
when she heard him say ‘ All’s right,’ 
the thought that he had discovered all 
her most valuable property drove her to 
an act of defiance. 

^ Thieves 1’ she said, and she raised a 
loud scream. 

‘ Kill her !’ said Blodget. 

Ben had sprung to his feet, and made 
for the door of the room, although he 
had his knife in his hand. The fact is, 
this fellow wanted the nerve to be a 
murderer when any one resisted at all. 
He might have been an assassin, but he 
yiad not the courage to engage in a strug- 
gle. 

‘Kill her, I say !’ cried Blodget. 

‘No, no !’ said the lady, and springing 
to her feet, she with a rush made her 
way into the servant’s room; and slamm- 
ed the door shut in Blodget’s face. 

‘ Curses on her 1 you have let her es- 
cape.’ 

‘ I could not help it,’ said Ben. 

‘ Here, there is no time to be lost now 
— she will rouse the neighborhood. Take 
this pillow-case, which I have filled with 
the swag. We must be content with it. 
I will see to her and be with you in a 
moment.’ 

‘ Yes — yes, I will go ^ 

‘No further than the head of the 
stairs, though.’ 

‘ No — no.’ 

Blodget made a rush at the door of the 


room into which she had retreated; but 
it was too strong for him, and by great 
good fortune there had chanced to be 
some very effectual mode of fastening it 
on the inside. Blodget heard a lumber- 
ing noise in the room, that he could not 
make out. 

He called aloud, — ‘ No harm is in- 
tended you, and I will compromise the 
matter with you, if you will be quiet* 

Something rolled upon the floor, and 
then hit the door a great knock that 
shook it 

‘ Confound her,’ said Blodget, ‘ I know 
what she is doing now. She is piling 
the furniture against the door, and that 
was the bedstead. I say!’ 

Blodget heard a window thrown open, 
and then a votce calling out, — 

‘Help ! — help ! — thieves ? — thieves !— 
Murder 1’ 

Blodget turned from the door. His 
eyes fell upon the young girl who was 
tied to the chair, and in a moment he 
rushed up to her and untied her head. 
Then shaking her to and fro, he said — 

‘ Listen to me. Do you hear me 3 ’ 

‘Ye — e — es.’ 

‘ Go to that door and call to your mis- 
tres that I have gone.’ 

‘Ye — e — es.’ 

‘ At once, or I will cut your throat.’ 

The girl tottered to the door of the 
inner room, and called out in a loud 
voice, — 

‘ Mistress, they have gone now. They 
have gone now. Open the door. It is 
only me, Kitty.’ 

Kitty, in her fright, had done even 
more than Blodget had asked her. The 
dread of death had sharpened the wits of 
the girl, so that she had seen fully what 
was wanted of her, and she was willing 
at that moment to think that self-preser- 


138 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


vation was indeed the very first law of 
nature, even if it was taken in its most 
extended signification, and involved the 
destruction of another. 

‘That is right,’ said Blodget, as the 
girl tapped upon the panel of the door 
of the inner room, and called to her mis- 
tress ; ‘ call her again, or you die ! ’ 

‘ Mistress ! ’ 

‘Who calls ? ’ 

‘ It’s me, ma’m!’ 

‘Kitty?’ 

‘Yes, ma’m!’ 

‘ How came you free ? ’ 

‘Oh, they have run away, ma’m 1 ’ 

‘ Open the front window, then, and 
call out for the police at once, do you 
hear V 

‘Yes, ma’m I’ 

‘ Tell her to open the door,’ said 
Blodget, ‘ or mind your throat.’ 

‘ Open the door, ma’m !’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ Implore her to do so. Say you are 
hurt.’ 

‘ Oh, I am hurt, ma’ml Do open the 
door.’ 

‘Hurt?’ said the lady, ‘You don’t 
mean that ?’ 

Blodget heard from the voice that she 
must be just outside the door, or rather, 
we may say with more precision, just on 
the other side of it. Full of revengeful 
thoughts at the idea that she had endan- 
gered his safety by her obstinate, and 
what we would call heroic, resistance to 
be robbed, he determined on her destruc- 
tion. 

Placing a revolver within a couple of 
inches of the panel of the door, and close 
to the side of the face of Kitty, although 
at the moment the girl was too confused 
to see it, he fired. 


The report was very stunning. 

Kitty fell to the floor from fright 
with a loud scream. 

‘ Hush !’ said Blodget, as he held up 
his hands, in an attitude of listening. 
‘ Hush I’ 

All was still, 

A deep groan came from the inner 
room. 

‘ Ha I ha 1’ cried Blodget. ‘ I have hit 
her 1’ 

‘ It was at that moment that a shrill 
whistle sounded through the house, and 
Blodget at once recognized it as the alarm 
that he had told the man whose duty it 
was to stay at the outer door of the 
house to give in case of danger. 

‘ It is all over,’ said Blodget, ‘ and it 
will be a close touch now as regards es- 
cape.’ 

He made his way to the door of the 
room, and was out in the corridor in a 
moment. 

‘ Ben ? Ben ?’ 

‘ Here I am, captain. Oh, Lord I’ 

‘What’s the matter?’ 

‘ Nothing — only — only •’ 

‘ Only what, idiot ?’ 

‘ I thought I heard somebody in trou- 
ble.’ 

‘ How so ?’ 

‘ A pistol shot, captain, from your 
hands, I take it, is reason enough for 
that.’ 

‘ No, it is not. When you hear a pis- 
tol-shot from me again do not take it in- 
to your head that somebody is in trou- 
ble.’ 

‘No ?’ 

‘ Certainly not ; but you may pretty 
safely conclude that somebody’s troubles 
are over.’ 

‘Oh, Lordl’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


139 


^Come away at once now — there is 
no time to lose. Take care of the bun- 
dle. ‘ Have you it f 
safe.’ 

^Follow me then.’ 

Blodget ran down stairs as quickly as 
he could, and by the time he got to the 
hall he found that the whole four of the 
thieves he had brought with him had as- 
sembled there, and were looking at each 
other by their little pieces of lighted ta- 
per with something like consternation. 

‘ What is the matter V said Blodget. 

*Oh, captain, it’s all up.’ 

‘What is all up V 

‘All up with us. There is a force in 
the street of police. They don’t seem to 
know which house it is, but they are on 
the look-out about something being amiss 
at one or other of the houses on this side 
of the way. 

‘ Humph ! W^hat do you mean by a 
force? ’ 

‘ About a dozen of them.’ 

‘ Blodget bit his lips. 

‘ Yes, and ^^hey are close ontside too.’ 

‘No r 

‘ Yes they are.’ 

‘ I will satisfy myself. If it be only the 
ordinary watch I don’t think a couple of 
dozen of them ought to stop us from pro- 
ceeding, and I will not permit them doing 
so either; but if they are some of these 
cursed Vigilance fellows, it is another af- 
fair.’ 

Blodget acted promptly. Nobody cer- 
tainly could accuse him of want of cour- 
age or decision. He knew that the only 
way of discovering who 'were without 
was to take a good look himself ; so, to 
the consternation and surprise of his. 
comrades, he opened the street door and 
coolly looked out into the street. 

A sudden rush was made at the door 


by a couple of men, and Blodget soon 
saw ten or twelve others not far off. 

* Hold hard there, boss,’ said one of 
them. ‘Don’t shut that door again^ 
my fine fellow, if you please.’ 

‘ Ah, indeed !’ said Blodget, as he 
closed the door ; but he was not quite 
quick enough, for a stick that one of the 
officers had with him had been pushed 
through the opening, and prevented the 
door from closing. 

‘ Ha, ha ! it won’t do,’ cried the of- 
ficer. 

Blodget laid hold of the stick and 
called upon the others to do so. By 
their united force they pulled it out of 
the officer’s hand, half dislocating hie 
wrist as he did so, for he had tied it with 
a strip of dry hide to his arm. 

The door was closed in another min- 
ute, but it was only held by the lock, 
for Blodget had cut the bolts and had 
broken the chain, so that his situation 
with his four companions was anything 
but a very agreeable one. 

‘ Oh !’ said Ben, ‘ I do begin to think 
as we have all dropped in for it at last.’ 

‘Not at all,’ said Blodget. 

• Not at all, captain ? Why how tha 
deuce are we to get out of this mess V 

‘ I don’t call it a mess. There are 
two ways out of a house ; one at the 
street door, and the other at the roof. 
Follow me.’ 

‘ What, upstairs again ?’ 

‘ Yes, to be sure. Remember you are 
under my orders, and you may as well 
remember why, too.’ 

‘ Why V 

‘Yes, why. Was it not because I 
knew more than you did, and could so 
take the command with more advantage 
to you as well as to myself ? Come on { 


140 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


I will yet see you all safe out of this aftair, 
you may depend upon it.’ 

- They accordingly proceeded up stairs, 
where as Blodget anticipated, they found 
a scuttle affording an exit to the roof — 
through this they escaped, and scamper- 
ing over the flat roofs of the adjacent 
houses, got safely off with their blood- 
bought booty. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

We must now retrace our steps in or- 
der to introduce a different phase of life 
in the Golden City. 

Among the many hundreds of passen- 
gers who landed one drizzly day from 
one of the Panama steamers, was a young 
and very handsome female. 

Her personal attractions had excited 
the attention and admiration of many of 
the male passengers, who would fain 
have improved the chance of becoming 
more intimate with her, had they not 
been kept aloof by the distant manners 
of a gentleman, under whose protection 
she appeared to be, and, perhaps, even 
more by the young girl’s reserved ways 
and apparently sad expression of counte- 
nance. 

Who this lady was will appear in the 
course of our tale. Her companion call- 
ed her Fanny — but whether she was his 
wife or not, was unknown to the rest of 
the passengers. 

About a fortnight after Fanny arrived 
in San Francisco she rose from her slum- 
bers, broken by unquiet visions, with pale 
and gloomy looks, for she had not yet 
decided upon the course she would adopt 
in her present extremity, and her sombre 
countenance and spiritless manners at- 
tracted the notice of her landlady. 


‘ Mr. Edwards has gone to Sacramento, 
I hear,’ said she, as she placed the break" 
fast equipage upon the table. 

‘ Yes.’ aeplied Fanny, coldly. 

‘He did not say anything to me about 
the rent,’ observed the woman, in a doubt- 
ful and hesitating tone. ‘He engaged 
the apartments, you know ; but if you 
pay the rent when it is due, of course it 
is all the same.’ 

‘You have always received your rent 
from me, Mrs. Smith,’ returned Fanny, 
somewhat haughtily, ‘ and as long as 1 
occupy your apartments I shall continue 
to pay for them. I hope- you do not 
doubt my ability to do so ?’ 

‘ Oh, no,’ said her landlady. ‘ Only as 
Mr. Edwards engaged the apartments, 
and has now left without saying anything 
about the matter, I did not know how 
matters might be ; but I meant no of- 
fence, I am sure.’ 

Mrs. Smith whisked herself out of the 
room, and Fanny was again alone to con- 
template the dread realities of her posi- 
tion. Still undecided, still reluctant to 
adopt either of the alternatives which 
she had canvassed over, but keenly alive 
to the necessity of a speedy decision, she 
yet sought to avert the crisis, if only for 
a few days; and having made a bundle 
of a silk dress and a handsome shawl 
which Edwards had given her, she left 
the house to obtain the means of liquid- 
ating the week’s rent, that would be due 
on the ensuing day. 

‘ Mrs. Edwards,’ said a female voice be- 
hind her, as she stood before the window 
of a pawnbroke^’’s shop, unable to sum- 
mon courage to enter; and turning round 
she beheld a young girl, stylishly dressed 
and possessed of considerable pretensions 
to beauty, whom she instantly recognised 
i as a fellow-lodger with whom she bad 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


once or twice exchanged civilities when 
they had met upon the stairs or in the 
passage. 

‘ I have renounced that name forever, 
Miss Jessop,’ said she ‘ and would forget 
all the associations belonging to it.’ 

‘Ah, 1 heard that Mr. Edwards had 
gone to Sacramento,’ observed Miss Jes- 
sop. 

‘ You knew it, then, before I did,’ re- 
tinmed Fanny, with a slight bitterness of 
accent. 

‘Indeed !’ rejoined Miss Jessop. ‘But 
do not think of going to the pawnbro- 
ker’s, for I am sure that is where you are 
going.—’ 

‘Who told you that I was going to the 
pawnbroker’s,’ inquired Fanny, colouring, 
and speaking in a tone of mingled vexa- 
tion and surprise. 

‘ Nay, do not be angry !’ said Miss Jes- 
sop, whose manner was kind and concil- 
iating. ‘ I was sure of it, as soon as I 
saw you, and you cannot deny it; but do 
not look vexed because I have penetra- 
ted your intentions. I see that you 
want a friend, and it was because I felt 
convinced that you were going into the 
shop that I accosted you.’ 

‘ I do indeed want a friend. Miss Jes- 
sop,’ returned Fanny, sighing, ‘I never 
felt the want of one so much as at this 
moment.’ 

‘ Then come home, if you have no 
where else to go to, and we will have a 
little chat together,’ said Miss Jessop, in 
a very friendly tone. ‘ I am older than 
you in years, and still older in experience, 
for all that you now see dimly louring 
upon the horizan, I have long ago passed 
through.’ 

Fanny was in that frame of mind which 
prompts the seeker after guidance or 
consolation to be communicative and to 


141 

give confidence wherever friendship is 
proffered, and she walked home with 
Miss Jessop, whom she invited into her 
own sitting-room. 

‘ You are very comfortable here,’ said 
the young lady, as she glanced round 
the apartment. ‘I hope you do not 
think of leaving?’ 

‘ I have thought of many things, but 
as yet have been able to decide upon noth- 
ing,’ returned Fanny, with a faint smile. 

‘ And yet you were about to do the 
most foolish thing imaginable, if I had 
not prevented you,’ observed Mis Jessop, 

‘ For whatever course you decide upon, 
it would be foolish to make away with 
your best clothes, and the money you 
raised by so doing would only serve to 
avert for a few days the decision that you 
would have to come to at last. For in- 
stance, if you decide upon returning home 
to your friends, where would be the use 
of delaying your return until you had 
eat up all your clothes ? Again if you 
determined upon receiving the visits of 
any other gentleman, would it not be 
foolish to delay accepting of his propo- 
sals until you were penniless ? If you 
will take the advice of one who has been 
in the same position, you will do at once, 
whatever you decide upon doing, for, 
however desperate your position may be, 
procrastination wdll only make it wmrse.’ 

Fanny felt the force of her new friend’s 
reasoning, and after reflecting upon it 
for a moment, frankly disclosed her posi- 
tion, signifying the repugnance which 
she felt to returning home. 

‘ You see that I understand your posi- 
tion as well as if I had been acquainted 
with it,’ said Miss Jessop, with a smile. 
If you will go out with me this evening 
I will introduce you to a banker who is 
sure to be delighted with you. He is 


142 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


very liberal, and I know he admires your 
dark style of beauty above all others.’ 

Fanny’s curiosity and vanity were 
both excited by this flattering description, 
and as reflection had confirmed her in 
her determination not to return home, 
little persuasion was needed to induce 
her to assent to her new friend’s proposi- 
tion. 

Night found Fanny and Miss Jessop 
seated in a temple dedicated equally to 
Venus and to Bacchus. The former was 
surprised by the scene which met her 
gaze, and the appearance of the females 
who promenaded the saloon, or were 
seated by the side or on the knees of gay 
gentlemen, enlightened her both as to 
the character of the place and that of 
her companions, if indeed there had been 
in her mind any doubf as to the latter, 
previous to her introduction to that.flow- 
ery scene of vice. 

‘ There ! — that is the person of whom 
I spoke to you,’ said Miss Jessop, in a 
whisper, as the banker entered the sa- 
loon, and as the roue caught the eye of 
Fanny’s companion, and saw by her side 
a beautiful young female whom he had 
never seen before, he advanced towards 
the table at which they were seated, and 
sat down opposite to them. 

‘You look blooming to-night,’ Miss 
Jessop, said he, eyeing Fanny as he 
spoke. ‘Champaigne, waiter. Who is 
your handsome young frieud ?’ 

Fanny blushed at the compliment, and 
her companion answered, with a smile, 
‘A young friend of mine whom I have 
promised to introduce to you, Mr. Ed- 
wards.’ 

Fanny and the banker were soon upon 
the most friendly terms. He invited the 
ladies to take wine with him. Fanny’s 
reserve vanished by degrees under its in- 


fluence, and the compliments of the 
banker appealed to her vanity. She was 
soon induced to accompany him to a 
house in the neighborhood. Fanny had 
committed herself to the tide of destiny, 
suffering it to bear her wither it would, 
and she entered into the house, of the 
character of which her inexperience al- 
lowed her to form no conception. But 
when they were conducted by an attend- 
ant into a bed-chamber, she was recalled 
all at once to the nature of her position, 
and she blushed deeply; her companion, 
however, found means to remove her 
scruples, and she left the house, in com- 
pany with Miss Jessop, richer indeed in 
purse, but bankrupt in honor. 

It was near midnight, — some weeks 
after Fanny’s fatal resolution— the gay 
votaries of pleasure were leaving the 
Jenny Lind Theatre, some few in equip- 
ages, but a greater number on foot ; be- 
yond the immediate neighborhood of the 
theatre, however, the bustle was little in- 
creased, for the bar-rooms, the Arcade, 
the El Dorado, the Lafayette, and the 
Bella Union, received the human tide 
almost as fast as its waves ebbed from 
the portico of the theatre. 

One female form alone lingered under 
the portico ! 

She was a lovely dark-eyed girl, rath- 
er below the middle height of woman, 
and wore a silk dress, faded and stained, 
a mantle of the same material, creased 
and much worn, and a velvet bonnet 
modish in form, but worn and faded, and 
adorned with a black feather in the last 
stage of decay. Her complexion was 
dark, and dissipation and late hours had 
not yet banished the last tinge of rose 
from her cheeks ; her bright eyes were 
shaded by long jetty lashes, «and her 
black hair was glossy as the pinion of 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


143 


the raven ; her lips seeraed formed of 
coral by the art of the turner, and her 
form was symmetrical and attractive in 
the highest degree. A little while be- 
fore those dark eyes had beamed with 
simulated passion, and those vermeil lips 
had been wreathed with the most win- 
ning and wanton smiles ; but as the last 
hack drove away from the front of the 
theatre, the expression of the girl’s coun- 
enance, which seemed to have been 
stamped there as with a searing iron, by 
the vivid consciousness of shame and 
degradation. The change was like the 
removal of the garland and veil from the 
skull of the skeleton guest at the ban- 
quet of the old Egyptians. A light rain 
was beginning to fall, the pavement was 
becoming wet and clammy, and the girl 
looked down with a sigh and a shudder 
at her thin shoes. 

Then she stepped upon the pavement, 
shivered for a moment on the edge and 
crossed the slippery street, to where the 
large lamp over the door of a large cafe 
threw its yellow glare upon the wet 
sidewalk. A tall, well-shaped man came 
out of the tavern at the moment she ap- 
proached the door^ and between him and 
the young girl there passed glances of re- 
cognition. 

‘ Blodgetl’ she exclaimed, in a low gas- 
ping tone. 

‘Ahl why it is little Fanny?’ said he, 
in a tone between a recognition and sur- 
prise. 

‘Yes,’ returned the young girl, with a 
look at once appealing and reproachful, 
‘ It is Fanny — your victim.’ 

‘Humph,’ said Blodget, averting his 
countenance from the girl’s earnest gaze, 
and biting his lip. ‘Have you been look- 
ing for me ?’ he enquired, after a mo- 
ment’s pause, and still without looking 


upon the girl’s wan countenance, as if he 
felt that her looks would reproach him, 
even though she uttered not a word. 

‘No,’ returned Fanny. ‘I knew not 
that you were in this city. I am glad, 
Mr. Blodget, to perceive that you have 
si ill so much virtue left, that you cannot 
look upon the face of the girl you have 
wronged and deceived, that you shrink 
from the contemplation of your work o 
evil.’ 

‘ Don’t let us quarrel,’ said Blodget, in 
a low voice, and with an evident uneasi- 
nsss of manner. ‘ Come in, and we will 
go up stairs, and have a bottle of wine.’ 

‘ Never, with you, Blodget !’ exclaim- 
ed Fanny, energetically. 

‘Your baseness has reauced me to a 
depth of degradation to which I would 
not at one time have believed possible 
for me to fall, but never will I sit down 
in a public room with the author of my 
ruin. 

‘ Well, where do you live ?’ said Blod- 
get in a' tone of vexation. ‘ I cannot 
stand talking to you in the street — be- 
sides, it rains.’ 

‘ Ah, you are ashamed of me ?’ return- 
ed Fanny in a tone of bitterness, though 
her voice trembled and her lips quivered 
as she spoke. ‘ Why were you not rath- 
er ashamed to become the destroyer of 
my happiness, my innocence, perhaps, 
my soul ?’ ^ 

‘ Pooh, nonsense. Fan,’ returned Blod- 
get, the glow of conscious guilt mantling 
upon his cheeks, in spite of his assumed 
nonchalance. ‘ You are in a melancholy 
mood to-night, and if you mean to stand 
here talking like that, I shall rush off. 
It is getting late, and you had better go 
horfie.’ 

‘Home 1’ ejaculated Fanny, with a bit- 
ter intonation, and hot tears gathered in 


144 


MYSTEltlES AND MISERIES 


her dark eyes, and trembled on her 
black and silken lashes. 

‘ Bill r said Blodget, to a pale, shabby 
dissipated-looking young man, who came 
out of the bar-room at that moment — 

‘ bring a hack !’ 

In a few minutes the vehicle rolled up 
to the spot, and the driver jumped from 
his seat to open the door. Fanny allow- 
ed her seducer to hand her into the hack 
but her thoughts were wandering, and 
she felt a slight degree of surprise when 
Blodget got in, and seated himself by 
her side. 

‘Where to, sir,’ said the driver, as he 
closed the door. 

Blodget looked at Fanny, who men- 
tioned the name of the street in which 
she lived, and in a few minutes the hack 
was dashing over the miry road. Fanny 
leaned back in silence, and when her 
companion passed his arm around her 
waist, she shrank from his touch, and he 
instantly removed it. 

‘What is the use of your being angry 
with me, Fanny V said he, in a deprecat- 
ing tone. ‘ What has passed can never 
be recalled, and had better be forgotten. 
Let us ’ 

‘ Forgotten V exclaimed Fanny, raising 
her dark eyes sadly and reproachfully to 
his countenance, as he saw by the light 
of a lamp which the cpach passed at the 
moment. ‘ Do you think that I can ever 
forget what I have been or what I am 
now ? That I can forget there was a 
time when I was innocent and happy, 
and cease to contrast that time with the 
wretched present V 

‘Why are you not happy now?’ in- 
quired the roue. 

‘ Can you ask me why I am not hap- 
py now, Blodget?’ returned Fanny, in a 
tone of deep and touching emphasis. 


‘ Ah, do not affect what you do not feel I 
Do not make me think you so thoroughly 
heartless as such a question v/ould imply. 
You know that I am not and cannot be 
happy.’ 

Blodget was silent, and in a few mo- 
ments the hack stopped opposite the 
house that had for some weeks been the 
abode of the lost and degraded Fanny. 
Blodget sprang out, assisted Fanny to 
alight, and having discharged the hack, 
followed the young girl up the court and 
into the house in which she lodged. She 
ascended the stairs, permitting Blodget 
to follow her, and when they had entered 
a small bedroom of the most wretched 
appearance. She closed the door, set the 
light which she had received on entering 
the house, upon a pine table, and sinking 
upon a chair by the side of the bed, 
buried her countenance in the clothes. 

‘ How long have you been in such a 
place as this ?’ inquired Blodget, as he 
threw a quick glance round the wretched 
chamber. 

‘ I permitted you to come here, that 
you might form a faint idea of the depth 
to which you have plunged me,’ said Fan- 
ny, raising her head from the bed. 

‘ Reproaches are useless,’ returned the 
man, gloomily: ‘ I am sorr3^ for what 
has passed, Fanny, and now let us be 
friends again.’ 

‘ On what terms ?’ inquired Fanny. 

‘ Oh, never mind the terms ?’ returned 
Blodget, sitting on the side of the bed, 
and taking the young girl’s hand. ‘ Kiss 
me. Fan., and we will have a bottle of 
wine up here — no, not here,’ he added, 
again casting his eyes around the miser- 
able chamber. ‘ Come away with me to 
a house of accommodation.’ 

‘ And to-morrow ?’ said Fanny, doubt- 
fully and inquiringly. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


145 


‘To-morrow we shall be as good frisnds 
as ever we weie.’ 

‘ Blodget,’ said Fanny, in a deep and 
even solemn tone, while she raised her 
dark eyes to his countenance, with an ex- 
pression of profound earnestness, ‘ I would 
rather die than continue to lead the life 
which I have lived since you so unkindly 
deserted me. Indeed, I know not why I 
have not long since sought death in pre- 
ference to such a life of shame, and mis- 
ery and conscious degradation. Tell me 
whether you mean to atone for all that 
you have made me suffer by making me 
your wife V 

‘ You cannot expect it,’ returned Blod- 
get, dropping her hands, and taking a 
hasty turn across the room. You have 
seen enough of life by this time, I should 
think, to see the foolishness of such an 
expectation,’ 

‘ My experience of life has been bitter 
enough, God knows,’ said Fanny, heaving 
a deep sigh, while tears again gathered 
in her dark eyes. ‘ Why did you ever 
seek my love ? Was it honorable to do 
so, and to win my heart, and then, when 
I had given you the tenderest proof of 
love that woman can bestow, to cast me 
from you as you might a flower that you 
had plucked for its beauty and fragrance, 
and when it had ceased to charm, you 
cast upon the footway to be trodden upon 
and to mingle with the mire ? That is 
what you have done — that has been my 
fate.’ 

‘Well, it cannot be helped now. Fan,’ 
observed Blodget, some twitchings of re- 
morse giving a slight degree of impa- 
tience to his tone. ‘ Will you come 
away from here and have a bottle of 
wine with me ? Nay, if you like it bet- 
ter, for once I will stop here.’ 

‘Never again, Blodget, will I press the 


same bed with you, unless as your wife,’ 
exclaimed Fanny, with solemn earnest- 
ness. ‘ I would rather lay down in some 
secluded spot, and die of hunger ; or seek 
a refuge from the shame and misery that 
are killing me, in the waters of the bay. 

‘ Good night, then,’ returned the sedu- 
cer. ‘ I am off! I will do the generous, 
though.’ 

The libertine’s tone and manner were 
hurried and uneasy. He took a slug from 
his purse and laid it on the table, but 
Fanny rose immediately, her dark eyes 
flashing and her cheeks glowing, and tak- 
ing up the coin, threw it at his feet. 

* Not from you, sir 1’ she exclaimed 
vehemently. ‘ I will neither sell myself 
to you, nor have it thought that I have 
done 30. You sought me, and you gained 
me, and I do not blush for what has pass- 
ed ; but my fond and trusting heart be- 
trayed me, and not such a paltry bribe 
as that. Would you have me despise 
myself more than I do already i’ 

‘ Fanny,’ said Blodget, in a tone which 
evinced considerable agitation, for the 
words, look, and tone of the poor girl had 
at length penetrated to his heart. ‘ Let 
us be friends, as we were before I left 
New-York. Forgive me for what you 
have suffered, and kiss me.’ 

‘No 1 no 1’ returned Fanny, extending 
her hand to ward him as he approached 
her. ‘ I forgive you, and now leave me ; 
but remember that there is One besides 
whose forgiveness you have to seek, and 
whose pardon is of more consequence 
than mine. 

‘You will not kiss me, then — not even 
as a sign of your forgiveness V said the 
libertine, who thought that if the young 
girl suffered him to hold her in his em- 
brace he should be able to win her to a 


146 


MYSTEKIES AND MISERIES 


more agreeable termination to their in- 
terview than appeared likely otherwise. 

* No,’ replied Fanny, firmly. ‘ You have 
ceased to love me, and I should loathe 
myself were I to suffer any approach to 
a renewal of our former intimacy. Blod- 
get lingered a moment longer, glanced 
toward the .slug which still lay on the 
floor, where the indignant girl had thrown 
it, and then quitted the room. 

When the door had closed upon her 
seducer, Fanny threw herself upon the 
bed, and hiding her countenance in the 
clothes, burst into a flood of bitter and 
scalding tears. Oh, how agonizing were 
the reminiscence, how bitter the reflec- 
tions, evoked by the accidental meeting 
with the man to whom she owed all the 
unhappiness she ever knew. The thought 
of her home, of the poor, but honest par- 
ents whom she could never look in the 
face again, of the companions of her 
childhood, in the village of her birth, 
and from these subjects of reflection her 
thoughts wandered to the beginnings of 
her ill-starred acquaintance with Blodget,, 
and the sudden dissolving of the dream 
of happiness she had had, so bright and 
blissful, but, alas, so transient. 

Her tears ceased to flow, without hav- 
ing brought her any relief, and seating 
herself by the bedside, she grew by de- 
grees more calm, but it was an unnatur- 
al calmness, not the tranquility which 
speaks of peace within, but a mere lull 
in the tempest of human passions. She 
glanced at the glittering coin upon the 
floor, but she felt that to pick it up and 
appropriate it to her own use, would be 
to accept a money compensation for her 
wrongs, and though husbands in the up- 
per classes of society are accustomed to 
accept such compensation from the se- 
ducers of their wives, yet the purer soul 


of that crushed violet of the pavement, 
revolted at the thought. 

Yet must she have money; she was 
penniless, and for her there was no alter- 
native between a life of infamy and de- 
gradation, and the unblessed grave of the 
suicide. Moreover she could not bear 
to be alone with her heart-crushing brain- 
searing, maddening thoughts: she felt 
that she must fly from them, or, madness 
or suicide would be the result. The 
thought of surrendering herself to the 
embraces of a stranger was less repugnant 
to her mind, in the mood which had 
come upon her, than that of selling to 
her seducer for money the favors which 
he had once enjoyed through her love; if 
she must sin, she resolved that it should 
not be with him, to those arms she had 
originally gone pure and chaste. 

Leaving the money upon the floor, she 
went down stairs, darted past a stout red- 
faced old woman in a faded silk dress, 
whom . she met in the passage, in order 
to avoid ail explanation, and rushed 
through the miry court into the street. 
A misty rain was still falling, and there 
were few persons in the streets, but she 
knew there were yet plenty of loungers 
and revellers in the taverns about Com- 
mercial Street, and thitherward, she re- 
traced her stops. She had nearly reach- 
ed the crossing of Montgomery Street, 
when she saw a young man come out of 
the corner bar-room and walk down 
towards the wharf, with a reeling gait, 
as if under the influence of liquor. 
Thinking that he might be easily induced 
to accompany her home, she followed 
him, but before she could overtake him 
he entered another bar-room. 

Fanny lingered for a moment on the 
clammy pavement, but the deserted ap- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


147 


pearance of the steets speedily decided 
her, and she turned into the house and 
entered. 

The young man was sitting at one of 
the tables over which he was leaning, 
with his head leaning on his arms, and 
his countenance concealed : but no one 
else was in the room. A glass stood on 
the table. The man did not move when 
she entered, though she knew he could 
not be asleep, having only entered the 
house a moment before. 

‘ What a dissagreeable night,’ Fanny 
ventured to observe, in the hope of at- 
tracting the young man’s attention. 

At the sound of her voice he started 
from his seat as if he had received a 
shock from a galvanic battery, and gaz- 
ed with mingled wildness and earnestness 
at her. Fanny started also, and Stagger- 
ing backwards, sank upon a bench, and 
covered her face with her hands, for she 
had recognised Robert Jervis, her affi- 
anced lover, in the days of her virtuous 
happiness. Jervis was pale, and the un- 
expected meeting with one whom he had 
once loved so ardently had^iven to his 
countenance an expression of wildness 
and extreme agitation. 

^ Has Fanny sunk so low as this ? and 
80 soon, too,’ said he, in a low voice, ren- 
dered hoarse by the agitation of his feel- 
ings. ‘ Has she who ran away from 
her home become in so short a time a 
midnight frequenter of barrooms, and the 
common associate of the vicious portion 
of a class, the reputable members of 
which she once looked down upon with 
disdain V 

‘Spare me, Robert,’' said Fanny, in a 
faint and broken voice, and without re- 
moving her hands from her countenance, 
‘You know not what I have suffered — 
what I am suffering now.* I 


‘I can easily believe that,’ returned 
Robert, surveying her with a look of 
mournful interest. ‘ You have made me 
suffer, too — more deeply than I can find 
words to express; but I will not reproach 
you While you have a heart to feel, if 
vice does not harden it to the core, you 
will find reproaches there which I cannot 
spare you.’ 

‘I do,’ exclaimed Fanny, sobs choking 
her voice, and the pearly tears trickling 
down her hands. ‘You cannot reproach 
me more severely than my own heart 
does at this moment. If you knew all 
that I have endured and am enduring 
you would pity me.’ 

‘ Pity you ! ’ said Robert, who had be 
come perfectly sober the moment he re- 
cognized the lost girl upon whom he was 
now gazing. ‘I have never ceased to 
pity you since the moment of my return 
to reason after that hour of madness that 
ruined both myself and you.’ 

‘ It was all my fault,’ sobbed Fanny, 
weeping as if her heart would break. ^ 

‘ It matters little now, whether the 
fault was wholly yours or partly mine,* 
said Robert, taking a hasty turn up and 
down the room. ‘It was more the fault 
of that villain Blodget : may heaven’s 
avenging lightnings scathe and blast him! 
May his own happiness and peace of 
mind be wrecked as ours have been 1’ 
Fanny sobbed bitterly, and dared not 
raise her eyes to Robert’s agitated coun- 
tenance. The young man took two or 
three turns up and down the bar-room, 
and then he became a little calmer, and 
pausing near the table at which he had 
been sitting, threw a furtive glance tow- 
ards the weeping Fanny. 

‘ And you have really fallen so low as 
your presence here seems to imply ?’ said 
he, endeavoring to steady his voice, 


148 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


though it was low and tremulous, and 
his lips quivered as he spoke. 

‘ Imagine the worse, and you will 
know all,’ replied Fanny, in a broken and 
faltering voiee. ‘ I have wished a hun- 
dred times that I were at the bottom of 
the bay, but I cannot do it. I pray for 
death, that I may be spared further mis- 
ery and sin, and yet I live.’ 

‘ Heaven have mercy on us all, for we 
have need of mercy ! ’ exclaimed Robert, 
in a tone which betrayed the emotion 
that he felt, and leaning with his elbows 
on the table, he buried his face in his 
hands. 

He heard Fanny sobbing, but for some 
moments neither of them moved or spoke. 
Then he heard a slight rustling, and he 
removed his hands from his pale and 
agitated countenance, and slowly raised 
his head. Fanny was hurriedly leaving 
the room ; it was her mantle brushing 
the door as she passed out, which he had 
heard. He sighed heavily, and then he 
dropped his head upon his hands again, 
and sat silent and motionless, until roused 
by the entrance of the bar-keeper who, 
thinking that he was asleep, shook him, 
and bawled that he was going to close 
the house. Then he arose, quitted the 
house, and walked slcwly, and with an 
expression of misery and despair upon 
his pale countenance. The rain had 
now degenerated into a thick fog, through 
which the lamps twinkled dimly, and the 
pavement was covered with thin mire of 
the color and adhesive quality which dis- 
tinguishes the mud of San Francisco, ex- 
cept where the broken condition of the 
pavement of the footway permitted the 
turbid water to lay in large puddles, 
dimly reflecting the street lamps. Re- 
gardless of the puddles, Robert walked 
on, now with his eyes fixed upon the 


miry pavement, and now looking forward 
with contracted brow and moving though 
silent lii^s; and when he reached a lane, 
he went straight on and entered a house. 
Thither we will not immediately follow 
him. 

On leaving the bar-room, where she 
had encountered Robert Jarvis, Fanny 
had hurried down to the wharf, where 
she began to walk more slowly, the ter- 
rible excitement which had until then 
impelled her onward, beginning to sub- 
side. But though she walked more 
slowly, she kept towards the bay, and 
still walked slowly onwards. About the 
hour of one, she advanced towards steps 
leading down to some water. It was 
not the first time since she had added 
herself to the thousands of unfortunate 
women who seek the wages cf sin, that 
she sought the bay with suicidal pur- 
poses, but there was something so terri- 
ble and so awful to her mind in the 
thought of death, that she had never 
dared to attempt the execution of it. 

‘It must be done,’ she murmured, as 
she approached the steps. ‘ I can endure 
this dreadful life no longer.’ 

She descended the steps hurriedly, but 
on the lowest that was uncovered by the 
water, she paused, and gazed upon the 
dark bosom of the flood that rolled with 
a hoarse dull murmur. 

‘Death! What is it ?’ murmured the 
miserable girl, clasping her small w-hite 
hands, and looking down upon the water 
that rolled darkly at her feet. Awful 
mystery, which I wish, yet fear, to solve! 
Is it but the intermediate state which 
mortals pass through to free the soul 
from the grossness which clogs it during 
its sojourn on earth, and fit it for a 
higher and happier state of existence ? 
or is it a long sleep — a night without 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


149 


dreams, and to which no morrow 
comes 1 Is it, as some say, the chry- 
salis state from which we emerge into 
new life, like the butterfly? Unfortu- 
nate analogy ! — the repugnance to the 
soul’s annihilation, this longing after 
immortality ? Oh there must be some- 
thing beyond the grave, though what I 
cannot say. It cannot be w^orse, what- 
ever it may be than the life I am lead- 
ing.’ 

She paused in her muttered solilo- 
quy, thinking she heard soft and cau- 
tious footsteps behind her, but on cast- 
ing a look up the steps, she saw no 
one ; indeed the fog prevented her 
from seeing more than a couple of 
yards. 

* It is nothing,’ she muttered. ‘Now 
to end a life of which I have long been 
weary! It is but a plunge — a splash- 
ing of the water — a circling ripple on 
the surface — and all will be over!’ 

As she murmured these words, the 
poor girl threw herself into the dark 
waters, adding to the long list of man’s 
perfidy and inhumanity — ‘ One more 
unfortunate victim.’ 


CHAPTER XY. 

We must now return for a space to 
[nez and her captors. The unfortunate 
girl had but a very confused idea of 
where she was being conveyed. When 
the party reached the ranch she was 
taken from her horse, and carried rather 
than led, into the building. 

She was taken down a narrow flight 
of steps into what appeared to her to be 
a subterranean apartment. And such, 
in fact it was, for the dwelling to which 


she had been taken had formerly been 
a portion of one of the old mission es- 
tablishments, which are so numerous 
in California. The vaults beneath it, 
had doubtless been excavated as a place 
of retreat in case of attacks from hostile 
Indians, or as a depository for the sa- 
cred vessels of the church. 

At length they reached the bottom 
of this subterranean flight of stairs, and 
then she was borne along a narrow pas- 
sage of considerable length, the footsteps 
of her ruflSanly abductor raising dismal 
and prolonged echoes. Her brain be- 
gan to reel before the appalling idea that 
she was being carried into the bowels 
of the earth, perhaps to be immured for 
life in some dungeon, where the atmos- 
phere would be close and damp — ^where 
moisture would trickle down the green 
and slimy walls — perhaps, to be depriv- 
ed of life ; or, maybe, and the thought 
made her shudder convulsively, subject- 
ed to the brutal lusts of some vile 
miscreant whose crimes had made him 
shrink into gloomy vaults from the 
light of day and the arm of retributive 
justice. 

Her bearer seemed to be fatigued 
with her weight for he twice set her 
down and rested a few moments. At 
length the end of the journey appeared 
to be reached, and she was now laid 
down upon some blankets, and the gag 
removed from her mouth, and the cov- 
ering from her head, and when she cast 
a glance of terrified apprehension around 
the place to which she had been brought 
she was alone and in profound and im- 
penetrable darkness. 

Almost frantically the unfortunate 
maiden gave vent to her long-suppress- 
ed emotions in a piercing shriek, and 
then sank into insensibility. 


150 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


How long Inez lay in that state of 
insensibility which came upon her when 
she found herself alone and in utter 
darkness, in the place to which she had 
been borne, she had no means of ascer- 
taining; but at length consciousness re- 
turned to the bewildered maiden by 
slow degrees. Back from the memory 
cells of her brain came the recollection 
of her retiring to bed the evening pre- 
vious beneath her father’s roof, then the 
midnight abduction, the long and fear- 
ful ride, and her falling insensible in 
the dark and gloomy chamber in which 
she now was. 

‘ Where was she ? Why was she 
brought there ?’ 

She rose from the floor, and groping 
with her hands to avoid coming in con- 
tact with any projecting article of fur- 
niture, she made a few cautious steps 
in the direction of the door, by which 
she had been borne into the room by 
her abductor, but her hands encounter- 
ed no tangible indication of an entrance. 

The secret door, the darkness that 
seemed palpable, all must be parts of 
some infernal contrivance to shroud in 
secresy and mystery some diabolical 
outrage, from the contemplation of the 
probable nature of which she shrank in 
horror. Through that concealed door 
which she could not discover, but which 
she yet knew to exist, the perpetrator 
would enter — those walls would shut in 
every sound, and deaden every shriek — 
that palpable darkne^ would veil the 
crime, and guard from the chance of 
future recognition the criminal ! It was 
dreadful for one so innocent, so defence- 
less to stand there alone, enveloped in 
darkness, anticipating all that was hor- 
rible and revolting to her pure mind, 
and fearfully conscious of her utter pow- 


erlessness to evade her impending doom. 

She clasped her hands, and though 
in darkness, her eyes wandered round 
the room, and could any one have seen 
her countenance at that moment, it 
would have been seen pale and impress- 
ed with an aspect of mingled wildness 
and despair. A new thought suddenly 
struck her, and partly stilled the tumult 
of her mind ; she would pray — it was 
mpossible, she thought, that God would 
forsake her, if she prayed to Him, for 
succor and deliverance. In obedience 
to this impulse, she knelt down upon the 
thick carpet, and prayed long and fer- 
vently that He whose name was Love, 
and whose attributes were Powsifer, Wis- 
dom, Justice and Mercy, would deliver 
her from the doom which was impend- 
ing over her, whether that doom was 
a violent death, or dishonoring outrage, 
which she dreaded most. This act of 
devotion exercised a tranquillizing influ- 
ence over her mind, and she rose from 
her knees considerably comforted and 
strengthened. 

While Inez was still pondering upon 
her condition she heard a door open 
and close. The person who entered ig- 
nited a match and Ijt a lamp, and con- 
fronted the trembling girl. Judge of 
her horror when she recognized one of 
the villains whom she had seen engaged 
in burying the murdered man in the old 
adobe building. Althou'gh her knees 
trembled with fiwht she mustered cou- 

O 

rage enough to ask him, * What means 
this outrage, sir.’ 

* It means this,’ said Blodget, for it 
was that miscreant himself who stood 
before her. ‘ It means this,— that you 
take the oath which I shall administer, 
swearing in the most solemn terms never 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


151 


to reveal aught that has happened since 
you left the mission last evening. The 
second is, that you become my mistress.’ 

‘ Then I reject your conditions with 
scorn and abhorrence!’ exclaimed Inez 
turning away. 

* Reflect well, my charmer,’ said the 
villain. 

‘ Cease, sir 1’ exclaimed Inez. ‘ Say no 
more 1 I reject your offers with disdain.’ 

‘ I thought to find you more reason- 
able,’ said Blodget after a pause. ‘ How- 
ever, if you hold out a week, you will be 
the first who ever did. There are some 
slices of fowl and ham, and some bread, 
and a pint of wine, in the basket ; and 
in the evening I shall visit you again.’ 

As he turned to leave the room, Inez 
bent her gaze steadily upon the door, in 
the hope of detecting the means by 
which it was opened, but it had only 
the appearance of a portion of the wall,, 
revolving upon hinges, and undiscover- 
able on the inside when closed, from 
the uniform appearance which the en- 
tire wall then presented alike to the eye 
and the touch. The door again rolled 
noiselessly on its hinges, it closed with 
a click, and Inez was alone in the pitchy 
darkness of her prison. 

Satisfied that there must be some 
means of acting upon the concealed me- 
chanism connected with the door, she 
ran her hands over the inside, and press- 
ed every square inch with her fingers, 
in the hope of touching something which 
would set in action the secret spring. 
This manipulation producing no result, 
she next treaded the floor near the door 
in the same manner, but still without 
making any discovery. It then occur- 
red to her that the spring might be sit- 
uated above her reach, and instantly 
mounting upon the wicker basket which 


Blodget had brought her, she felt over 
the upper part of the door, and the wall 
around and above it as far as she could 
reach. 

An indescribable emotion of joy and 
hope thrilled through her bosom, as her 
fingers all at once encountered a small 
knob or button, about six feet from the 
floor, which yielded to the pressure, and 
acting on some concealed mechanism, 
caused the heavy door to revolve slowly 
and noiselessly upon its hinges. Step- 
ping from the basket, she peered into 
the semi-obscurity of the lobby upon 
which the door opened, and discover- 
ing an ascending flight of stairs, she felt 
half inclined to venture up them ; but 
on reflection, she thought such a step 
would be imprudent, and satisfied with 
possessing the means of opening the door 
at pleasure, she closed it to reflect, at 
leisure, upon the way in which she 
should make her discovery available for 
the purpose of escape. 

The impression that the door which 
she had discovered was not the one by 
which she had been borne into the 
chamber by her abductor still lingering 
in her mind, she resolved to examine 
the opposite wall in the same manner ; 
and, setting'the basket against the wall, 
she stood upon it as before, and pass- 
ed her hand over the wall in every di- 
rection. To her great joy she was not 
long in discovering a knob similar to 
that which communicated with the se- 
cret spring of the other door, and press- 
ing upon it, a door opened like the one 
by which Blodget had entered, and the 
rush of cold air which fanned her cheek, 
and the continued darkness, called to 
her mind the recollection of the subter- 
raneans through which she had been 
borne the preceding night. 


152 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


. She hesitated for a moment, and then j 
she advanced her right foot cautiously, 
and found that she stood at the head of 
a flight of steps leading downward. She 
descended two or three, and then she 
returned to her chamber and closed the 
door, resolving to wait until night be- 
fore venturing into the subterraneans, so 
fearful was she of having her evasion 
detected before her escape was complete, 
and of steps being taken to preclude 
the possibility of a second attempt. The 
cravings of her stomach now began to 
demand attention, and feeling that some 
degree of vigor would be required to 
enable her to complete her escape, she 
sat down, and taking the provisions 
from the basket, ate a portion of the 
bread and meat. She hesitated as she 
afterwards raised the wine to her lips, 
lest it should be drugged, but reflect- 
ing that such a step was little likely to 
be resorted to after the open violence to 
which she had been subjected on the 
preceding night, she took a small quan- 
tity, and then began to reflect upon the 
course which she should pursue. 

By deferring her attempt to escape 
until night, as she had determined, she 
would be exposed, she now reflected, to 
a repetition of the outrage of the pre- 
ceding night; and would likewise be 
less capable of ascertaining correctly the 
house in which she was a prisoner than 
she would be should she escape by day- 
light. She therefore opened the door 
by pressing upon the knob which com- 
municated with the secret spring, and 
cautiously ascended the dark flight of 
stone stairs. She reached the top in 
safety, groped her way along a passage 
of considerable length, and at the end 
was involved in as pitchy a darkness as 
before. 


1 At length she knocked her head 
against a flat stone which appeared to 
seal up the subterranean staircase, and 
almost reeled under the concussion ; but 
recovering from the blow in a few mo- 
ments, she endeavored to raise the stone 
by pressing upward with her hands and 
shoulders. The stone was heavy, but 
at length she succeeded in raising it on 
end, and when thus poised it was 
easily removed from the aperture, and 
she emerged into a large gloomy vault 
or cellar, which was little less dark than 
the stairs and passage which she had 
traversed, or the chamber from which 
she had escaped. The only light came 
from a rude doorway in one corner, 
where she could see the bottom of a 
flight of rough steps, towards which 
she hurried ; but at the moment she 
put her foot upon the lowermost step 
she heard rough voices. 

No sound from the underground 
chambers in which Inez was imprison- 
ed could by any possibility reach the 
outside of the building, even had there 
been neighbors in the vicinity, but the 
place was far remote from any other 
human habitation. She had no means 
of marking the flight of time, and 
could not even distinguish between day 
and night. But her persecutor had 
told her that he should visit her again 
in the evening, and she resolved to be 
in readiness to fly the moment the first 
warning sound of his intrusion struck 
upon her listening ears. At length 
when she heard the click of the secret 
spring, she ascended with precipitation 
the stone stairs which led, as she 
thought, to liberty. 

She had scarcely reached the top, 
when she heard hurried footsteps be- 
hind her, and, without casting a look 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


158 


backwards, she fled in terror along the 
subterranean passage. Her rapid foot- 
steps were echoed by those of her pur- 
suer. She had nearly reached the top 
of the stone stairs leading to the place 
in which she had found a lamp, and the 
means of lighting it, when she stumbled 
over a stone, or some other impediment, 
and fell prostrate upon the ground, a 
scream bursting from her lips, and the 
lamp falling from her hand. 

By this untoward mischance, the 
lamp became extinguished, and before 
she could recover her feet, she heard 
the footsteps of her pursuer close at 
hand ; and in another moment she felt 
herself clasped round the waist, and all 
her faculties succumbing to the force 
of terror, she became insensible. 

It was Blodget who had pursued 
her, and he was greatly alarmed lest 
she should escape. 

As he was bearing her insensible 
body into the chamber, a new cause of 
alarm presented itself. One of his ac- 
complices in guilt rushed in to tell him 
that a party of horsemen, apparently 
Californians, had dismounted in a 
neighboring grove, and that two of 
their number were reconnoitering the 
ranch. 

Blodget paused for a moment to 
think, and then speedily determined 
how to act. 

The party of which the man spoke 
was composed of Monteagle, Joaquin, 
and a few Californians, who, after infi- 
nite pains, had discovered a clue to the 
course pursued by the capturers of 
Inez, and had traced them to the 
ranch in which she was a prisoner. — 
Joaquin and Blodget had approached 
the house in order to determine the 
best course to pursue in order to cap- 


ture the villains and release Inez. 

* Listen,^ said Blodget to his ac- 
complice. * If they find me here, I may 
be recognised and arrested, if not for 
this, for other trifling affairs, which 
may end in neck-stretching. They can 
have no proof of our carrying off the 
girl, unless the wench is found. That 
is not possible, as no one can have any 
suspicion of the underground room. — 
They will search the house, and finding 
their search in vain, must leave the 
place. I will try to get off unobserved 
through the ravine at the back of the 
ranch, and catch the first horse I can 
find and make for the city. Let me 
hear from you as soon as they go, and 
we will concert future measures about 
the girl. I will be at our old place in 
Jackson street,^ 

As the villain concluded speaking, lie 
he drew and cocked his revolver, and 
noiselessly moved from the back of the 
house towards the ravine of which he 
had spoken. 

Hardly had the ruffian entered the 
ravine ere he was descried by Montea- 
gle, whose party had been placed so as 
almost to surround the ranch. 

* Stop ! or I fire,^ cried Monteagle. 

Blodget burst through the thicket, 

and Monteagle leaped his horse after 
him, but the fugitive turned sharply 
round the moment the horse^s hoofs 
touched the turf, and discharged his 
revolver. The darkness and hurry in 
which he fired prevented him from tak- 
ing aim, and Monteagle remained un- 
scathed, but the bullet crashed through 
the head of the horse, and the animal 
reared up, and then fell upon its side 
and expired. 

Blodget fled precipitately, ana as 
soon as Monteagle could extricate him- 


154 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES. 


self from his dead horse, he rushed after 
him, calling loudly on his friends. Two 
of them followed him, but Blodget kept 
the advantage which he had gained by 
shooting the horse, and sped across the 
meadows with the swiftness of a hunted 
cayote. Beyond the ravine there was 
a high steep hill, thinly wooded, and 
on the further side of the hill a thick 
and extensive wood. If he could gain 
this wood, he doubted not that he should 
be enabled to baffle his pursuers, and 
he made for the hill with the speed of 
a grayhonhd. 

He threw a hurried look behind him 
as he reached the foot of the hill, and 
then dashed up the ascent, for he heard 
behind him the shouts of his pursuers 
and the voice of Monteagle urging the 
two men to come on faster. The hill 
was steep,' and, except where a scanty 
vegetable soil had been formed during 
successive winters by the decay of moss 
and leaves, its rugged side was covered 
with smooth pebbles, in which the fu- 
gitive’s feet sunk and slipped as he toiled 
upward. Until Monteagle reached the 
hill, therefore, ^Blodget lost ground, but 
when his pursuers commenced the fati- 
guing ascent they were again upon an 
equality. 

The pursuers and pursued^ were un- 
able to see each other, and could only 
discover their relative positions by paus- 
ing to listen, and then only by such 
sounds as the slipping of pebbles under 
the feet, the rolling down of some dis- 
placed stone, the rustling of brambles 
and brakes, or the snapping of boughs. 
The hill became steeper as the robber 
and his pursuers approached the sum- 
mit, and they had to grasp the boughs 
of dwarf oaks to assist them in the as- 
cent, and sometimes to drag themselves 


over the smooth faces of bare brown 
rocks, polished by atmospheric influen- 
ces, clinging to roots of trees which 
appeared above the soil, and inserting 
their toes into crevices, or setting them 
upon projecting points. 

Near the summit Blodget paused to 
rest, to listen, and to look behind him; 
below him he heard the voices of his 
panting pursuers, the rustling of bush- 
es and brakes, and the grating sound 
of their footsteps in the loose pebbles. 
He wipea the sweat from his brow, and 
then he resumed his clambering pro- 
gress, still hoping to find a refuge in 
the wood on the other side. The sum- 
mit of the hill was sharp and bare, the 
brown rock coming to the surface un- 
covered by the scantiest layer of soil, 
and its bald crest passed, he had little 
fear of his ultimate escape. A glen, 
or ravine, the sides of which were cloth- 
ed with breaks or ferns, led from the 
summit down to the wood, and the 
shortest way of gaining access to the 
glen from the side which he was ascend- 
ing, was through a gap or cleft in the- 
rocky crest of the hill. In the bottom 
of this gap laid a large fragment of 
rock, nearly flat on the upper side, and 
rounded at the edges by the abrading 
influence of rain and fog; probably it 
had originally been disruptured from 
the crags which arose on either side, 
and remained in that position for ages. 
It partly overhung the steep which 
Blodget was now clambering up, and 
by pausing a few moments to recruit 
his strength, and then clinging with his 
fingers to the fissures in the rock, he 
drew himself up until he reached its 
top in safety. 

He felt the stone move as he crawled 
over its smooth flat top on his hands 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


155 


and knees, and as he paused for a mo- 
ment in obedience to the instinct of 
self-preservation, he heard some stones 
in which the large rock was imbedded, 
roll down the hill, chinking against the 
pebbles, and bounding onwards, until 
arrested in their course by the boughs 
or roots of dwarf oaks and wild lilachs 
which grew upon its side. It was clear 
that the impulsion which his weight had 
given to the stone, had displaced these 
small fragments, chipped from itself or 
the crags which it laid between when 
it first fell there, and he hesitated in 
the fear that in quitting the stone he 
should cause it to topple over, and be 
crushed by its falling upon him. 

In this dilemma he determined to 
leap from the middle of it, in order to 
avoid overbalancing it, and, standing 
upright for a moment, he measured the 
leap with his eye as well as the dark- 
ness of the night would permit, and 
bounded forward like a mountain goat. 
He cleared the edge of the stone, and 
alighted in safety below it, on the other 
side of the hill; but again some frag- 
ments of rock rolled down, and he 
sprang aside, lest the whole ponderous 
mass should slip from its position and 
hurl him before it down the hill. But 
the massive rock moved not, and he 
sped down the hill with the speed of a 
deer. 

Monteagle had made slower progress 
than the robber up the steepest part 
of the hill, and his companions did not 
engage in the chase with equal vigor. 
Hence they allowed Monteagle to keep 
the lead; and, oncoming near the sum- 
mit of the hill, they diverged from the 
track which he was following in order 
to reach the glen on the other side 
without passing over the large stone 


which has been described. Monteagle 
had caught a glimpse of Blodget as the 
dark figure of the latter was for a mo- 
ment dimly defined against the lighter 
darkness of the sky, when he stood 
upon the stone to leap into the glen, 
and shouting, * There he isl’ he strain- 
ed up the steep aclivity direct for the 
gap in the hill’s bare and rocky 
crest. 

He was not aware until he reached 
it of the obstacle presented by the mas- 
sive stone; but, as Blodget had passed 
over it, he thought he could do the 
same; and, clinging to it with both 
hands, drew himself up, and succeeded 
in reaching the flat top; but scarcely 
had he done so when there was a rus^ 
ling fall of stones from beneath, the 
massive fragment of rock slid from its 
place, and a shriek of terror burst from 
the lips of Monteagle as he found him- 
self falling backwards, and the stone 
with him. 

His two friends heard the cry, and 
for a moment stood silent and motion- 
less on the steep hill-side, with their 
hands still holding the boughs and roots 
which they had grasped to aid their as- 
cent. They heard the great stone rush 
with a dull hoarse sound a few yards, 
and then bound down the hill, crashing 
through the dwarf oaks and clumps of 
lilac, snapping the tender trunks of the 
mountain trees, and grating over the 
loose pebbles which filled the channels 
made by the rapid descent of water 
during heavy rains; but that cry of 
horror and afiright was not repeated, 
and in a few moments all was still upon 
the dark and lonely hill. 

‘ It is the great stone 1’ said one with 
bated breath. 

‘Poor fellow,' ejaculated the other* 


156 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


with a shudder. ‘ If it has fallen on i 
him, he is crushed !’ 

‘ Let us look for him,^ said the first. 

‘ Hush ! I thought I heard a groan.’ 

They listened, but heard nothing, save 
the sighing of the night wind among the 
trees, and they went towards the spot 
from which Monteagle had fallen, and fol- 
lowed the track of the displaced stone, 
which was marked by broken boughs and 
torn herbage, down the hill. About fifty 
yards down they found our hero lying 
against a bush, which had arrested his 
farther progress. The night was too dark 
for them to perceive the full extent of 
the injuries which he had received, but 
the inertness of the body when lifted 
from the ground, gave but faint hope 
that vitality remained. A rude litter was 
made of boughs, and the crushed body 
being placed upon it, was borne down the 
hill and across the meadows to a little 
ranch not far from the place. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A rude chorus that was being sung, 
or rather shouted by several coarse and 
desperate-looking men, who were seated 
around a table in a back room of a very 
low cabaret, and which was never visited 
only by the most depraved persons who 
resided in, or resorted to the neighbor- 
hood. They were thieves, and if any- 
thing could be judged from their coun- 
tenances, they were capable of doing the 
most desperate deeds. The table was 
covered with glasses containing gin, rum, 


i and brandy, and of which they had all 
been evidently partaking very freely, 
and they were smoking as hard as they 
were able. 

There was a large wood fire upon the 
hearth; and the red glare it cast upon 
their features, gave them almost a super- 
natural appearance, and altogether the 
scene was as effective as one of those 
that are often represented in a melo- 
drama. Obscene jokes and songs had 
been freely indulged in, and it did not 
seem as if they were inclined to leave off 
for some time. It was night, and the 
wind blew boisterous without, but the 
ruffians were making such a riot, that 
they heeded it not ; and they were evi- 
dently determined to enjoy themselves to 
the most unlimited extent. 

‘ Drink away, my lads,’ said one Mike, 
raising the glass to his lips as he spoke,; 
— ‘drink away; we ought to be merry, 
for Fortune never smiled more brightly 
upon us than she has done for some 
time past.’ 

‘Ay, you say right, Mike,’ observed a 
tall, dark whiskered man, whom the 
thieves called Joe ; ‘but leave us alone 
for doing business, and for availing them- 
selves of fortune’s favors when they are 
to be obtained. Cap’n a toast I’ 

‘Ay, a toast ; a toast ;’ responded the 
others. 

Mike raised a large glass, filled to the 
brim in his hand, and said ; — 

‘ Well, my lads, I will give you a 
toast, and that shall be. Success to our 
dare-devil gang !’ 

‘ Bravo ! bravo !’ shouted the theives. 

‘ Here’s to the dare-devil gang I’ 

‘A capital toast,’ said Mike ; ‘and well 
responded^to. With your leave, I will 
propose another.’ 

‘A.y, ay, a toast from Mike,’ shouted 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


157 


two or three of the thievs, amongst whom 
he was a particular favorite ; ‘a toast 
from Mike.’ 

‘ Fill your glasses then, my boys,’ said 
Mike; ‘bumpers! bumpers!’ 

The thieves needed no second invitation 
to do as Mike desired, and the glasses 
were very quickly replenished. 

‘ Here’s confusion to the Vigilance 
Committee !’ was Mike’s toast ; and it 
was followed by loud shouts from every 
one in the room; the landlord of the 
house at that moment entering, and 
joining loudly in acclamation of it. 

‘Ah !’ observed Joe, — they have found 
us rather troublesome customers to deal 
wtth, and will again if they should ven- 
ture to attack us.’ 

‘I don’t think that there is much fear 
of that,’ returned Mike; ‘for we keep 
too well out of their clutches, and have 
met with such a career of success, that 
we may set them at defiance !’ 

‘Ay, ay,’ answered Mike ; ‘and may 
we be always able to do so ; and all 
those daring fellows, who will run the 
risk to live a free life.’ 

‘But Jenkins,’ asked Mike, ‘do you 
not think that it was a very foolish thing 
for us to loose so much time in affecting 
the accomplishment of this plot of Blod- 
get’s V 

‘ Certainly not,’ returned Jenkins ; 
‘Blodget has well rewarded us, and it 
will ultimately pay us much better than 
a trip to the mines would have done.’ 

‘ How V demanded Mike. 

‘ Why, Blodget must continue to do 
the thing that’s liberal, or else his game 
will be up,’ replied Jenkins. ‘ The lady 
is in our power, and we must continue 
to keep her so ; if Blodget does not come 
to our terms, why, Old de Castro, no 


doubt, will, and, therefore, we are sura 
of a reward one way or the other.’ 

‘ Yes, the gallows!’ observed one of the 
thieves, who had been sitting apart from 
the rest, and smoking his cigar heartily, 
did not seem to feel any particular inter- 
est in what was passing. 

‘There’s Ben at his croaking again,’ 
said Mike; ‘he seems to take a delight 
in ’ 

‘ Speaking the truth,’ added Ben, in a 
quiet, tone ; ‘ it is very unpleasant to 
hear it sometimes.’ 

‘Pshaw! don’t make yourself a fool, 
Ben,’ exclaimed Jenkins ; ‘ any one would 
suppose, to hear you talk, that you had 
become tired of a thief’s life. But what 
think ye of my determination, my lads V 

‘ It is a famous one,’ answered Mike, 
‘ and cannot fail to work us good.’ y 

‘ It must add much to our coffers one 
way or another,’ resumed Jenkins; ‘and 
I take no small, credit to myself for the 
thought ; besides, you know that we 
have the fellow, Blodget, entirely in our 
power, that murder, which ’ 

‘ Right, right,’ interrupted Mike ; if 
that were known, it would not be long 
before Mr. Blodget would swing upon a 
gallows.’ 

‘Indeed it would not,’ returned Jen- 
kins ; ‘ and he knows that, and dreads 
us. The lady is a beautiful woman, and 
I almost envy him his prize ; but some- 
thing may yet happen to place her in 
my possession instead of Jbis, and I do 
not know that I should be over nice 
about availing myself of such an oppor- 
tunity.’ 

At this moment, between the pauses 
of the blast, they heard a loud knocking 
at the door, and they looked at each 
other suspiciously, and starting involun- 


168 


MYSTERIES AND. MISERIES 


tarily to their feet, placed their hands 
upon their revolvers, and prepared for 
action in case they should be surprised. 

* Who is there ? ’ demanded the land- 
lord. 

‘ It is only I, Blodget,’ was the answer, 
and being satisfied that it was his voice, 
the door was cautiously opened, and the 
villain entered. He greeted them all 
heartily, and then, by the invitation of 
Jenkins, having taken his seat at the ta- 
ble, the mirth of the gang was resumed, 
and carried on with increased spirit, 
Blodget joining in with as much freedom 
as if he had been one of the gang, 

‘Well, Mr. Blodget,’ asked Jenkins, 
‘and don’t you think I managed this 
business very well for you V 

‘Aye, Jenkins,’ answered Blodget; ‘you 
did everything that I could wish ; but 
think you she will be safe where she is V 

‘ Sated’ repeated Jenkins ; ‘ as safe as 
when she was buried deep in the bowels 
of the earth. Gordon is just the man 
who will take care of her.’ 

‘ That is well,’ replied Blodget ; ‘but 
it is not unlikely that I shall not have 
any occasion to trouble him long.’ 

‘Why, you would never be such a 
fool as to attempt to remove her from a 
place of security V demanded Jenkins. 

‘ Circumstances may compel me so to 
do.’ 

‘ I understand you ; but we must see 
about the best means of preventing all 
chance of that,’ said Jenkins; ‘you 
have been a lucky fellow,’ Blodget, to 
get the lady in you power and at your 
mercy; it is glorious revenge.’ 

‘ It is, it is !’ answered Blodget ; ‘ but 
not sufficient to gratify me.’ 

‘No?’ 

‘Nol’ 

‘ What would you, then?’ 


‘ I would have the life of Monteagle. 

‘ Ah ! would you, then, again commit 
murder ?’ 

‘ Hold 1’ said Blodget ; ‘ mention not 
my former crime ; I cannot think of it 
without horror. 

‘ And yet you can contemplate anoth- 
er deed equally as sanguinary ?’ 

‘ Yes, the death of the detested Mont- 
eagle I can contemplate, coolly contem- 
plate ; and I shall never rest satisfied 
until it is accomplished.’ 

‘ And would you dare to perpetrate it 
yourself?’ asked Jenkins, 

‘ I dare,’ answered Blodget ; ‘ were ho 
to cross my path ; but were I to follow 
him to the Mission, or wherever he may 
be, I should in all probability be discov- 
ered, and taken prisoner, and then all 
my schemes would at once be frustrated. 
If any one would undertake to commit 
the crime, I would not fail to reward 
them handsomely.’ 

‘ I see,’ said Jenkins; ‘you would 
have me or one of my men perpetrate 
the deed of bloodl’ 

‘ I care not who it is, so that it is a 
man on whom I can depend.’ 

‘And the reward ?’ 

‘ A thousand dollars !’ 

‘ It shall be done.’ 

‘ Ah ! say you so ? when ?’ 

‘ Come, come, you are in too much of 
a hurry; and there is never anything done 
well where so much precipitation is used 
We must first ascertain where Monteagle 
is.’ 

‘ And that we may have some difficul- 
ty at present in finding out,’ said Blod 
get, ‘ for, doubtless, he has gonein search 
of Inez. My heart throbs impatiently 
for the accomplishment of the deed, and 
I shall not rest until I am sure that Mont- 
eagle is no more.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


159 


* On your promise of the reward you 
have mentioned, the deed shall, by some 
means or -other, be despatched:’ replied 
Jenkins; ‘ but you must wait with pa- 
tience, and we will not lose any time or 
opportunity to discover where he is, and 
to put our plans into execution.’ 

‘ This assurance gratifies me, and I am 
satisfied that you will not deceive_me!’ 

* You have had no reason to doubt me 
hitherto,’ returned Jenkins; ‘and, there- 
fore, there is no occasion to do so now, I 
believe.’ 

‘ But have you any idea how to pro- 
ceed?’ asked Blodget, 

‘ In the first place,’ returned Jenkins — 

‘ It will be the best plan to send one of 
the gang to the Mission, in disguise. He 
may be able to learn the proceedings of 
Monteagle, and probably find out where 
he is.’ 

‘ I agree with your design,’ said Blod- 
get, in reply; ‘ and should it meet with 
success, I shall not be ve.iy particular in 
giving a few additional dollars to the sum 
already promised. But Inez, for whom I 
have run such a risk, still remains obsti- 
nate ; and I do not think I shall be able 
to conquer her averson in a hurry.’ 

‘ And of what consequence will that be 
as she is in your power, she must yield 
to your wishes, or you can gain your de- 
sires by force.’ 

‘ Force! but I would rather that persua- 
sion would prevail; as notwithstanding 
my passion, I cannot bear the idea of vi- 
olence.’ 

‘ Why, true, it would be much better 
if it were avoided,’ observed Jenkins, ‘but 
come, drink!’ 

‘ Here’s success to all our undertak- 
ings,’ said Blodget ; and he quafied off 
the contents of his glass.’ 

‘ Success to all our undertakings,’ re- 


sponded the theives and the toast was 
drank tumultously. 

‘ You have been a fortunale fellow, 
Blodget, throughout your whole career, 
and have, no doubt, accumulated some 
money.’ 

‘ Why,’ returned Blodget, with a self- 
satisfied grin ; ‘ I have not much cause to 
grumble. But then I have had to de- 
pend upon my own wit and ingenuity.’ 

‘Well, certainly, Blodget, you are a 
most perfect villain.’ 

‘ I believe I may lay some slight claim 
to the character.’ 

‘ Nob a very slight one either,’ remark- 
ed Jenkins. 

‘ You pay me a very high compliment.’ 

‘Ha! ha! ha!’ 

‘ But who among your gang will un- 
dertake the murder V 

Jenkins looked round upon his fello’ws, 
but in not one of their countenances, 
reckless and determined as they were, 
did he notice any signs of a desire to 
undertake the sanguinary deed. 

‘ Who among ye is willing to earn 
this reward V he asked. 

There was no answer. Blodget be- 
came impatient. 

‘ What ! are ye all silent ?’ asked Jen- 
kins. 

No one offered to speak. 

‘ What say you Mike V 

‘I like not the shedding of human 
blood when it can be avoided,’ he an- 
swered ; ‘ if, however, Jenkins, you order 
me to perpetrate this crime, although it 
is against my inclination, I will obey 
you : if I am permitted to use my own 
free will, I say I will not commit the 
crime. Will that answer suffice ?’* 

‘ It will,’ said Jenkins ; ‘ but Joe, you 
will not refuse the thousand dollars ?’ 


100 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


‘I \iould not stain my hands with in- 
nocent blood for twenty times one thou- 
sand dollars, unless it was by your com- 
mand,^ was the answer. 

‘And Ben, what say you V 

‘ I am a robber, ready to defend myself 
and my comrades from an attack ; but I 
am not a cold-blooded deliberate mur- 
derer;’ replied Ben. 

‘ Damnation 1 ’ cried Blodget, fiercely ; 
and he arose from his seat and hastily 
traversed the room. 

‘Be patient,’ said Jenkins ; ‘ this mat- 
ter will be arranged, quicker than you 
could possibly expect. You see, Blod- 
get, although they are desperate men, 
they are not quite such atrocious mon- 
sters as they have been thought by 
many.’ 

‘ They are cowards if they shrink from 
the — 

Before he could finish the sentence, 
the thieves were all upon their feet, and 
by their menacing looks, threatened ven- 
geance. 

‘Hold?’ cried Blodget, and they all 
immediately resumed their seats, although 
it was very evident that the observations 
of Blodget had greatly enraged them, 
and there were many scowling brows, 
which convinced the villain that he had 
proceeded almost too far. 

‘Blodget,’ continued Jenkins, after a 
pause ; ‘ you should be cautious in what 
you say, my men are not used to hearing 
such terms applied to them, nor do they 
merit it. If Jenkins thought he had a 
coward amongst his gang, he would hang 
him up to the first tree he came to.’ 

‘ I w^as wrong ; I was wrong ;’ hastily 
apologized Blodget; ‘and I hope they 
will pardon me.’ 

* That is enough,’ observed Jenkins ; 


then turning again towards his men, he 
demanded — 

‘And, so you all refuse to do this 
deed V 

‘ We do ;’ was the answer from them 
all ; ‘ we shed not human blood only in 
our own defence.’ 

‘ One amongst ye shall do the deed, 
since I have promised this man, and will 
not recal my word ;’ said Jenkins per- 
emptorily. 

There was a discontented murmuring 
arose from among the thieves. 

‘ What means this murmuring ?’ de- 
manded Jenkins, and his eyes glanced 
fiercely upon them ; ‘ is there one among 
ye who would dare to disobey my com- 
mands ?’ 

‘ I will answer for all my comrades, 
and say, no,’ said Ben ; ‘ but we would 
avoid an unnecessary deed of blood, and 
especially under the circumstances.’ 

‘ I have given my word, and it shall be 
kept ;’ said Jenkins firmly; ‘youmust cast 
lots 1’ 

The thieves still looked dissatisfied at 
this determination, and glanced signifi- 
cantly at each other, but they did not 
say a word. They scowled upon Blod- 
get, who, however, did not take much 
heed of them, certain as he was, that 
while the captain of the gang was on his 
side, he had nothing to fear from any act 
of violence they might otherwise con- 
template toward^ him. 

Reluctantly they were about to cast 
lots, when there was the well-known sig- 
nal heard at the room door, which being - 
opened, Gordon was admitted. 

‘ Ah !’ exclaimed Blodget, ‘you have 
just come in time, Gordon; I have a pro- 
position to make to you.’ 

‘ Name it,’ answered the ruflGian. 


OF SAN FKANCISCO. 


161 


Jenkins repeated the question he had 
put to the others. Gordon appeared to 
catch at the idea, and the thieves eagerly- 
awaited his reply, anxious to be released 
from the perpetration of a ciime, from 
which they all revolted. 

Gordon did not make any immediate 
answer, and he appeared to be meditat- 
ing upon the proposal. 

‘Do you also hesitate, Gordon V in- 
quired the captain ; — ‘ you were not al- 
ways so particular. 

‘ I do not hesitate, only for one reason 
returned the miscreant. 

‘Name it !’ said Biodget. 

‘Let Blodget give two thousand dol- 
lars, and the deed shall be accomplished,’ 
was the villain’s answer. 

‘ It shall be yours,’ ejaculated Blodget. 

‘ Enough 1’ said Gordon, ‘ I have your 
word that the money shall be paid, and 
Jenkins, no doubt, will be answerable that 
you do not fly from your agreement V 

‘ I will,’ returned the captain. 

‘ There is do occasion for it,’ observed 
Blodget, ‘ if you do not deceive me^ I 
will not deceive you,’ 

‘ You had better not,’ said Gordon, 
with a. sinister look. 

‘You have good security for my keep- 
ing rny promise,’ added Blodget; ‘let 
the deed be done, and the money shall 
immediately be yours.’ 

‘ But if I should fail V 

‘If you do not wilfully fail, then one 
half the money shall be your reward for 
your trouble,’ said Blodget. 

‘ Enough,’ replied Gordon, ‘ then the 
bargain is sealed ; I will undertake the 
hazardous deed.’ 

‘ Thanks, thanks !’ said the blood- 
thirsty Blodget ; ‘ perform your task 
well, and you will have my eternal grat- 
itude.’ 


‘ Pshaw I’ cried the ruffian, with a 
sardonic grin ; ‘ of what use is gratitude 
to me ? It is not a marketable commod- 
ity. But what about the care of Inez V 

‘ Blodget will reside in the house du- 
ring your absence, and I will le^^ve Joe 
to assist him in his charge,’ replied the 
captain. ^ 

‘ That arrangement will do,’ said Gor- 
don, after a pause. 

‘ When will you start on your expedi- 
tion V inquired Blodget. 

‘ Immediately. There is no necessity 
for delay,’ answered Gordon. 

‘’Tis well,’ observed Blodget; ‘but 
you will go disguised V 

‘ Oh, leave me alone for that,’ returned 
Gordon. ‘ I have more reasons than one 
not to wish to be known ; or the first 
news that you heard of me would, in all 
probability be, that I was the inmate of 
a prison. I will so disguise myself that 
it must be a penetrating eye, indeed 
which coiild recognize me.’ 

‘ To-morrow, then V 

‘ I quit this place, and make my way 
for the Mission,’ rejoined Gordon, 

‘ True ; and to meet with success, I 
trust.’ 

‘ It shall not be my fault, if I do not.’ 

‘ You will forward us intelligence when 
you arrive there ; for I shall be ail im- 
patience till I hear from you;’ said Blod- 
get. 

‘ I will,’ replied Gordon, ‘ unless I see 
that there would be any danger in so do- 
ing.’ 

‘ Certainly.’ 

‘ And now that this business is settled,’ 
observed Jenkins, ‘ let us proceed to en- 
joy ourselves — come, my lads, replenish 
your glasses.’ 

The thieves obeyed this order with hi- 
larity, and the villain Blodget being sat- 


162 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


isfied with the iniiuman design he had 
formed, and the atrocious wretch who 
had undertaken to accomplish it, joined 
heartily with them in their revelry, which 
they kept up for more than an hour af- 
terwards, when Blodget, Gordon, and Joe 
returned to the house, and the captain 
and the rest of the thieves departed. 

Blodget felt a savage sensation of de- 
light fill his bosom, at the prospect of 
the full consummation of his most diaboli- 
cal hatred and revenge against Montea- 
gle ; and he entertained the most san- 
guine anticipations of the success of his 
plot. Gordon was a deep, designing, 
and determined villain, and he had no 
doubt but that the reward which he had 
promised him, would induce him to ex- 
ert himself to the uttermost. 

‘Yes,’ he soliloquized, when he was 
alone in his chamber, after parting with 
Gordon and Joe for the night; ‘I feel 
confident that Gordon will not fail, and, 
that ere many weeks have elapsed, my 
hated foe will be no more. Oh, this will 
be goodly revenge. Inez, too, will then 
be securely mine, and nothing will re- 
lease her from my power !’ 

The wretch paced his chamber, as he 
thus spoke, and his eyes sparkled with 
exultation. He pictured to himself in 
imagination, the unbounded bliss that 
was in store for him in the gratification 
of his sensual and disgusting passions, 
and he determined that but a short time 
should elapse, ere he would have the full 
accomplishment of all his wishes. He 
slept but little that night, for thinking 
upon his villanous stratagems, and when 
he reflected that be was beneath the same 
roof with the unfortunate^ Inez, and had 
it in his power to force her to an imme- 
diate compliance with his wishes, he 


coulcf^with difficulty keep his ecstacy 
within the bounds of reason. 

In the morning Gordon, after having 
so disguised himself that no person could 
by any possibility recognise him, and hav- 
ing received some fresh instructions and 
injunctions from Blodget, took his depar- 
ture on his inhuman errand, and Blodget 
and Joe, with an old woman, were left 
alone in the house. 

We need not inform the reader of the 
distracting hours of misery Inez had un- 
dergone since her incarceration in the 
house. Her sufferings were almost too 
powerful for human endurance, and it 
was wonderful how she could retain her 
senses. Her agonizing thoughts were 
divided between her own situation and 
that of her father, and her disordered im- 
agination pictured them, if possible, more 
dreadful than they actually were. 

‘ I shall never behold him again,’ she 
sighed, and scalding tears chased each 
other down her pale cheeks; ‘alas! I am 
torn from them forever. Or, if we should 
be again destined to meet, under what 
circumstances may it not be ? Myself, 
perhaps, dishonored — heartbroken ; my 
poor father a raving maniac. Oh, Heav- 
ens I the picture that arises upon my im- 
agination is too horrible for contempla- 
tion.’ 

She wrung her hands, and traversed 
her gloomy chamber with a trembling 
step. 

‘ To be beneath the same roof with a 
murderer, too,’ she added, ‘ and that, too 
a murderer of the blackest dye ! Oh, 
God I have I not good reason to be dis- 
tracted ? That terrible night when I 
overheard the wretches conversing upon 
the monstrous crime of which they had 
been guilty — when I saw them inter the 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


163 


mangled body of the poor white-haired 
old man, their unfortunate victim, comes 
fresh upon my memory as if it had only 
been just enacted. My heart seems chil- 
led to ice ; oh, surely the misfortunes 
that have since attended me have been a 
curse upon me for not having given such 
information of the circumstance as might 
have led to the apprehension of the as- 
sassins. The unfortunate old man’s bones 
moulder in unhallowed ground, and his 
blood calls to Heaven for retribution.’ 

She trembled violently, and almost 
imagined that she heard a melancholy 
sigh breathed close to her ear. She 
staggered to a chair and leant upon it for 
support, fearing to look around her, lest 
she should encounter the ghastly and 
blood-stained face of the murdered man. 

All was profoundly still in the house, 
and the miscreants who inhabited it 
seemed to be locked in the arms of sleep. 
Sleep ! how could wretches whose con- 
sciences were burthened with such a 
heavy weight of crime, sleep ? 

The light in the lamp burnt dim, and 
imparted a still more gloomy appearance 
to the chamber ; and the wind howled 
dismally without, increasing the horrors 
of that solemn hour. Inez seated her- 
self by the side of her bedj and, after a 
pause, did once more venture to look 
around the room, but nothing but of an 
ordinary description met her observation. 

‘ What dreadful crimes may they not 
have perpetrated in this house ! in this 
very chamber !’ She once more reflect- 
ed, and again her terrors arose to a pitch 
almost insupportable. 

The light in her lamp, which had for 
some time only been faintly glimmering, 
now suddenly died away, and our hero- 
ine was left in utter darkness. How she 
longed for the morning, and that she had 


some female companion near her in that 
dismal place, if it was only the repulsive 
old woman ; some one to whom she 
could speak ; but silent and drea.iy was 
everything around her, it was like being 
confined in a tomb. She had kept the 
embers of the fire together as long as 
she could, but that had also become ex- 
tinguished, and the room felt cold, as it 
was dismal and cheerless. 

At length she crept into the bed with 
her clothes on, and covered her head 
with the counterpane, filled with a sensa- 
tion of terror, she found it utterly impos- 
sible to conquer. She endeavored to 
sleep ; but her mind was too much dis- 
tressed to suffer her to succeed, and she 
tossed to and fro in a state of agitation, 
which no one but those who have been 
placed in a similar situation, can form an 
adequate idea of. The interview she had 
had with Blodget, rushed upon her 
memory, and she recollected every word 
that he had spoken, and which had 
given her every reason to apprehend the 
worse consequences from his determina- 
tion. Even the sight of that inhuman 
man inspired her with a feeling of horror 
no language can do justice to, and she 
dreaded a meeting with him as much as 
she would have done the most fearful 
calamity which could have befallen her. 

‘ But I will be firm,’ she reflected ; ‘ I 
will muster up all my woman’s fortitude, 
strong in the defence of her honor, to 
meet him, and oppose his importunities 
in a manner that shall deter him from 
proceeding to violence. Providence 
surely will not forsake me in this mo- 
ment of bitter trial, but will throw its 
protecting shield over me, and defeat the 
brutal designs of the libertine and the 
miscreant ! Yes, I will put my trust in 
Heaven, and prepare to meet my heavy 


164 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


trials with a firmness and resolution be- 
coming of me !’ 

These thoughts somewhat composed 
her spirits, aud after a short time spent 
in further rumination, she did at last sink 
into a disturbed slumber, in which she 
remained until the sun had risen in the 
eastern horizon. 

She arose, not in the least refreshed, 
and had not been up many minutes when 
she heard the key turning in the lock, 
and soon afterwards the old woman en- 
tered with the breakfast. 

She placed them on the table, and then 
fixed upon our heroine a scrutinizing look, 
and shook her head. 

‘ Well,’ said she, in her usual disagree- 
able tones ; — ‘ pale cheeks and red eyes ; 
no sleep again, I suppose, it puzzles me 
how you young women can live without 
rest? when I was your age, nothing could 
ever prevent my sleeping.’ 

‘When the mind is oppressed with 
such unprecedented and heavy sorrows 
as those that disturb mine,’ answered Inez 
— ‘if it is not entirely insensible, sleep 
may be courted in vain.’ 

‘ Pho !’ how very melancholy and dis- 
mal you do look, to be sure,’ answered 
the old woman ; ‘ any one would imag- 
ine that you had experienced all the 
troubles in the world ; but stop till you 
become my age, and then you may have 
cause to complain.’ 

‘Some persons troubles,’ returned Inez; 
‘are brought on them by themselves ; by 
their own vices, and ’ 

‘ Ah!’ interrupted the old woman, snap- 
pishly ; ‘ no doubt you think that a very 
pointed and sarcastic observation, but, as 
the cap don’t happen to fit me, I shall 
not wear it. Mr. Blodget will pay you 
a visit presently, and perhaps you may 


deem it prudent to behave a little more 
civil to him.’ 

Inez shuddered. 

‘ Oh, tell me,’ she said ; ‘ is he in the 
house ?’ 

‘ Oh, yes, to be sure he is,’ answered 
the old woman ; ‘ for he has taken up 
his quarters here altogether now, and 
therefore you will have plenty of his 
company.’ 

‘ Living in the same house,’ muttered 
our heroine to herself, and she trembled 
more violently than before ; ‘ alas ? what 
will become of me ?’ 

‘ Oh, no doubt he will take plenty of 
care of you, young lady,’ answered the 
old woman, with a bitter sneer. 

‘ He shall find,’ said Inez, mustering 
up sudden firmness, and speaking in a 
tone that astonished and abashed the old 
woman, ‘ he shall find that I have both 
the spirit and the virtue to resist his im- 
portunities, and Heaven will aid me to 
defeat his design. The guilty wretch ; 
surely for his many crimes a terrible re- 
tribution must be now pending o’er his 
head.’ 

‘ The spirit you boast of, young lady, 
said the old woman. ‘ I have no doubt 
will be very quickly turned, or Mr. Blod- 
get is not half so accomplished as I take 
him to be.’ ' 

Inez darted upon her a look of disgust 
and indignation, but she could not make 
her any reply, and after making two or 
three observations of a similar descrip- 
tion, the old woman quitted the room. 

We need not attempt to describe the 
feelings of our heroine when the old wo- 
man had gone : the disgusting observa- 
tions of the old woman, and the fearful 
prospects which was before her, filled her 
bosom with the utmost consternation, 


OF SAN FRANCISCO, 


163 


and although she tried very hard to rally 
her spirits, and prepare to meet Bloclget 
with fortitude, it was some considerable 
time before she had it in her power to 
suc(teed. To know that Blodget was an 
inmate of the same house with her, was 
sufiicient of itself to excite fhe greatest 
agony in her bosom ; and when she re- 
flected that it was not probable that he 
would longer be able to restrain his wild, 
unbridled passions, and that any resist- 
ance oh her part, would be completely 
futile, she became almost distracted. — 
Alas! she thought, how much more pre- 
ferable would death have been to the 
state of agony in which she was thus 
constantly kept. It was only for the 
sake of Monteagle and her fa ther, whom 
she could not entirely despair of behold- 
ing again, that she clung to life, and had 
she not had them to occupy her thoughts, 
and her heart’s warmest affections, she 
would have met death with fortitude, 
nay, even pleasure. What had been the 
last few days of her life, but of misery ? 
All mankind had seemed arrayed in en- 
mity against her, and few indeed were 
the real friends she had found. Her tears 
flowed fast at these thoughts, and they 
gave relief to her overcharged bosom. 

At length she struggled with her emo- 
tions, and so far regained her composure, 
that she was enabled to partake of the 
repast which the old woman brought her, 
and to prepare to meet Bledget, whom 
she had no doubt, and indeed the old 
woman had said he would, visit her in a 
short time. 

She had but just risen from her knees 
ha\ing implored the protection of the 
Holy Virgin, when she heard footsteps 
ascending the stairs, and directly after- 
wards, her room door was unlocked, and 


the object of her fears and detestation 
entered. 

He stood in the doorway for a minute 
or two,^and it was hard to perceive 
whether he was awed and abashed by the 
calm dignity and firmness of her demea- 
nor, or lost in admiration of her superla- 
tive beauty — still most exquisite, al- 
thouo:h her once bloomino[ cheeks were 
pale and wan with heavy care. 

Inez had mustered up uncommon for- 
titude, and, as Blodget entered, she fixed 
upon him a look which was sufiicient to 
penetrate the most insensible breast. It 
was one of the most cutting reproach, 
while resentment, and a firm reliance up- 
on the strength of her own virtue, and 
the protection of heaven, shown predom- 
inant in the general expression of her 
resistance, and approaching her with a. 
look of admiration which could create no 
other sentiment than one of hatred in 
her breast, he attempted to take her hand 
and press her lips, but she hastily with- 
drew it and, spurning him scornfully 
away from her, exclaimed — 

* Begone, sir, your presence is disgust- 
ing to me. Dare not thus to insult th® 
victim of your guilt. 

‘Who’s the master, now, fair Inez!^ 
demanded the villain, and a look of ex- 
ultation overspread his features ; ‘ who 
triumphs now ?’ 

‘Oh, villain — heartless villain 1’ cried 
Inez, her bosom swelling with agony, 

‘ can you stand there and talk to ma 
thus? Are you not afraid that the ven- 
geance of the Almighty will immediately 
descend upon your head, and render you 
powerless to do further harm V 

‘ I scorn it.’ 

Inez shuddered with horror at the 
words of the wretch ; who, however, 


166 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


presently altered his tone, and once more 
endeavoring to take her hand, which she 
successfully resisted, he assumed an in- 
sinuating smile, and in a voice of gentle 
persuasion, said — 

‘Pray pardon me, beauteous Inez, if I 
have been led into the expression of 
words that have caused anguish to your 
feelings ; but the injuries I have received 
from Monteagle ’ 

‘ ’Tis false !’ scornfully replied our he- 
roine, and her brilliant eyes appeared to 
flash fire; ‘Monteagle never injured you, 
but you was ever the serpent in his 
bosom, waiting an opportunity to destroy 
his peace, and you have yourself ac- 
knowledged the same, and expressed 
your inhuman exultation at the misery 
which you have caused him.’ 

‘Wei!,’ returned Blodget, with the ut- 
most coolness, and the boldness of his 
manner increasing, ‘ I will not deny it, 
because there is no necessity for my so 
doing, as the power is now mine. I have 
already had a terrible revenge, but still 
it is not complete, and never will I rest 
until it is wholly accomplished.’ 

‘ Oh, Blodget !’ ejaculated Inez, her 
fortitude failing her when she saw the 
villain’s recklessness and determination, 
and reflected that she was entirely in his 
power, and left solely to his mercy, or the 
interposition of Providence, ‘will noth- 
ing induce you to relent in your cruelty?’ 

‘Nothing,* answered Blodget, ‘ until I 
bave gained the full gratification of my 
wishes, and the consummation of all my 
hopes. Then only shall I be satisfied.’ 

‘ What mean you V 

‘You will behold Monteagle no more.’ 

‘Oh, God!’ ejaculated Inez, and her 
heart throbbed heavily against her side, 
her cheeks turned ashy pale, and her 
limbs trembled violently as a dread of 


something terrible about to take place, 
through the guilty machinations of the 
wretch who stood before her, darted 
upon her brain ; ‘cruel as you are, surely 
you would not seek his life V 

A grim and sardonic smile passed over 
the features of Blodget as she gave ut- 
terance to these words, but he returned 
no answer ; his looks spoke more than 
words, and had a thunderboltat that mo- 
ment descended upon her head, Inez 
could not have felt more paralyzed and 
awe-struck than she did at that time. 
With distended eye-lids, she fixed upon 
him a look which was sufficient to have 
penetrated even the most obdurate heart, 
and to carry awe to the guilty soul ; her 
features became stern and fixed ; her 
lips parted but she uttered no sound, and, 
suddenly approaching the astonished 
Blodget, she grasped his arm vehemently, 
and looked full upon him. Blodget could 
not help, in spite of all his hardihood, 
shuddering beneath her gaze, and the 
singlarity of her behavior, but he was 
not a minute before he completely reco- 
vered himself, and looking coolly and 
indifferently upon her, awaited what she 
had got to say without fii-st offering any 
observation of his own. 

‘Blodget!’ at length ejaculated our 
heroine, in a solemn tone of voice, and 
with her brilliant and expressive eyes 
still fixed with the same earnestness of 
expression upon his countenance; ‘ Blod- 
get, in the name of that Almighty power 
who guides all our actions, and before 
whose dread tribunal you must some 
time or the other appear, however much 
at present you may despise His name — 
by all your hopes of forgiveness for the 
many and heinous crimes you have com- 
mitted, I charge you tell me — solemnly 
tell me, what are your wicked designs?’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


16 V 


‘ Psha I” cried Blodget, and a fearful 
smile again overspread his countenance. 

‘Nay, I command you, in the name of 
the most High, to set my hoi’rible fears 
at rest, and tell me,’ demanded Inez, and 
her heart throbbed more violently than 
ever, and her whole soul seemed to be 
wrapped up in the answer which Blodget 
would return to her ; and she appeared 
as if she would drag the secret from his 
heart with her eyes. 

‘ Enough of this,’ at last said Blodget, 
‘ I came not here to talk upon a subject 
like this, and- ^ 

‘Heartless miscreant!’ interrupted 
Inez, ‘ too well can I read in your dark 
and portentous looks the base design 
you have in contemplation. But Heav- 
en will interpose to prevent the execution 
of your infamous intention, and to save 
Monteagle from your monstrous machin- 
ations.’ 

‘ We shall see,’ returned Blodget, with 
the same consummate coolness he had be- 
fore evinced ; ‘ we shall see. But hear 
me, Inez ‘ 

‘ I will not listen to you, until you have 
answered my question,’ observed Inez 
‘ your very words are as poison to my 
soul.’ 

‘ But you must and shall hear me,’ 'ex- 
claimed the other, with a determined air, 
and once more endeavoring to take our 
heroine’s hand ; ‘ you are securely in my 
power, and think you that I will be 
frightened from my purpose by an ob- 
stinate woman’s heroics. I come to of- 
fer you my love ; you reject it, but that 
shall not avail you, for force shall make 
you comply v/ith my wishes. As for 
Monteagle, I tell you once again you will 
see him no more.’ 

The courage of Inez completely failed 
her, tears gushed to her eyes, and, sink- 


ing upon her knees, with clasped hands, 
she supplicated the ruffian’s forbearance ; 
but she pleaded to a heart callous to ev- 
ery sense of feeling : he gazed upon her 
emotion with indifference, and he exulted 
at the manner in which he had subdu- 
ed her spirit, and flattered himself that, 
in time, she would be entirely conquered, 
and made to yield subserviently to his 
will. However, he endeavored to dis- 
guise his real feelings, and, assuming as 
mild an expression as he could, he raised 
Inez from the posture in which she had 
been kneeling, and affected to smile kind- 
ly upon her. For the moment she was 
deceived by his looks, and hope sudden- 
ly darted upon her mind. 

‘ You will relent,’ she ejaculated, ‘that 
smile assures me that you will. You 
cannot, surely, be so cruel as to seek the 
life of Monteagle. Has not the anguish 
you have already caused him, and the 
miseries he is at present undergoing, all 
through yon, been the means of suffi- 
ciently appeasing your vengeance ? Oh, 
Blodget ! repent ere it is too late, and re- 
store me to my friends, and again I prom- 
ise you that you shall receive my pardon 
and that of those who are dear to me, al- 
though the injury you have inflicted on 
them and me is almost irreparable. If 
there is one spark of humanity in your 
breast, if there is the smallest portion of ^ 
that feeling remaining in your heart, to- 
wards that sex who claims protection 
from every man, I shall not supplicate in 
vain ; you will accede to my request, 
and once more open to me the doors of 
liberty ; and suffer me to fly once more 
to the arms of my father — my poor be- 
reaved parent 1’ 

‘ Beauteous Inez,’ returned the wretch ; 

‘ this is madness, and a silly waste of 
time. Think you, then, that after all the 


168 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


trouble I have taken, the risks I have 
run, and the plans I have laid down to 
get you in my power, that I will now 
quietly resign you ? Think you that I 
would place myself at the mercy of my 
enemies? No, no! you must give up 
all idea of such a thing, and, henceforth, 
look upon me in the same light as your 
husband, for you and I must not again 
easily separate 1 You must yield to my 
wishes, and that speedily; I would have 
you do so of your own free will ; but if, 
after a given time you still remain fool- 
ishly obstinate, then must I, however 
much it may be against my wishes, use 
force. Resistance, you perceive, will be 
in vain, and therefore, I advise you to 
make tip your mind to assent without it ; 
then shall you receive every attention 
from me, and I will behave in a manner 
that shall leave you no cause to regret 
your separation from your father.’ 

‘Fiend in human shape,’^ ejaculated 
Inez, ‘ leave me 1 My soul freezes with 
horror as I listen to you ! But I wih 
not entirely despair, although you have 
bid me to do so ; Heaven will interpose 
to prevent the execution of your base 
threats.’ 

‘ Did Heaven interpose to prevent my 
getting you in my power ?’ inquired 
Blodget, with a sardonic grin. ‘ Once 
more I tell you, you shall be mine, and 
nothing shall save you 1’ 

‘Never, villain 1’ cried Inez. 

' ‘ Be cautions what you say, lady, lest 
you exasperate me,’ returned Blodget, 
with a threatening frown, which made 
our heroine tremble ; ‘ you forget that I 
could this day — this very moment — 
force you to a compliance with my wishes, 
and where is there one near at hand who 
could come to save you V 

‘By Heavens I would die first !’ 


‘ Bah 1’ sneered Blodget ; ‘ but I am 
tired of this useless contest of words ; 
you know my determination, and rest as- 
sured that I will only await a very few 
days for your answer, and then, if you 
do not consent, you know the conse- 
quences.’ 

‘ Once more I pray your mercy,’ said 
the distracted Inez, with clasped hands, 
and looks of earnest supplication ; be- 
ware 1 oh, beware 1 ere you proceed to 
extremities.’ 

‘ You have it in your power to move 
me to pity and love, fair Inez,’ returned 
Blodget ; ‘one smile from you, one word 
of affection from those ruby lips would 
act with the influence of magic upon 
me and make me quite a different man, 
Blodget would then live alone for love 
and you ; and there should not be a 
pleasure which it should not be my con- 
stant endeavor to procure you.’ 

Inez turned from the villain with a 
look of the utmost disgust, and she 
groaned aloud in the intensity of her 
anguished feelings. Blodget advanced 
nearer to her, and sought to put his 
arms around her waist, but the action 
immediately aroused her, and retreating 
to the further end of the room, she fixed 
upon him such a look as awed him into 
immediate forbearance. 

‘ Still madly obstinate !’ he exclaimed; 

‘ but time must alter this proud beauty, 
and you must yield to the desires of 
Blodget, however repugnant it may be 
to your feelings. At present I leave you, 
but shortly you will behold me agaiu, 
and then I trust that you will see the 
poli^ of giving me a more favorable re- 
ception than you have done this morn- 
ing.’ 

As he spoke, Blodget fixed one glance 
of expressive meaning, and then quitting 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


169 


the room, he securely fastened the door 
after him. 

‘The perverse woman,’ he soliloquis- 
ed, as he walked away ; but she must 
be subdued ; — she must be subdued ; 
Blodget cannot much longer endure her 
resistance. Oh, did she but know the 
plot I have formed against the life of 
Monteagle — but I said quite enough to 
arouse her fears, although I now wish 
that I had not done so, as it would be 
sure not to promote my wishes. I wish 
not to have to use violence, or I could 
do so directly ; no, my greater triumph 
would be to pi;evail upon her to give 
her own free consent, and that would 
add to the gratification of my revenge. 
Blodget, if you fail in this, it will be the 
first time that you have failed in any of 
your undertakings.’ 

The villain walked away, and after 
giving strict injunctions to Joe to keep 
safe watch over his charge, he bent his 
footsteps towards the cabaret, at which 
he and the thieves had been the night 
before carousing, and where, in a back 
room, he could commune with his own 
though ts,wi thou tany fear of interruption. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The Critical Move — Attempted Escape. 

When Blodget had retired from the 
room, our heroine gave vent to the pain- 
ful feelings which her interview with him 
had excited in her bosom ; and hope 
seemed to have faded entirely aw^ay from 
her mind ; for if the villain remained ob- 
stinately resolved to put his diabolical 
threats into execution, what means had 
she of resisting him ? None ! Then 


again the hints he had given convinced 
her that he had some base design in his 
mind. 

She was aroused from these reflections 
by the entrance of the old woman who 
had come to do something in her 
apartment, and whose disagreeable looks 
assured our heroine that she took a plea- 
sure in tormenting her, and saying any- 
thing which she thought might excite 
her feelings, afid Inez, therefore, deter- 
mined to avoid conversing with her, as 
much as she possibly could. The old 
woman, however, appeared to be deter- 
mined that she should not escape so 
easily ; for the words she had so pointed- 
ly directed to her in the morning, re- 
mained in her memory ; and after having 
eyed her with an insolent glance for a 
second or two, she ejaculated, in her 
usual harsh but querulous tones : — 

‘ I hope your ladyship feels happier al- 
ter the interview you have had with your 
lover, and that the observations he has 
addressed to you, have met your appro- 
bation, Oh, he is a very nice gentleman ! 
He ! he ! he !’ 

And the disgusting old woman croak- 
ed forth a laugh, which could scarcely 
have been imagined to have been utter- 
ed by anything but a witch ; and appear- 
ed to think that she had spoken very 
wittily and sarcastically. But Inez did 
not deign to condescend her any answer, 
and she averted her eyes, for there was 
something so remarkably disagreeable in 
the woman’s face, that she could not 
bear to look upon it. 

The old woman saw plain enough that 
her observations annoyed Inez, and al- 
though she felt rather vexed and disap- 
pointed that she did not answer her, she 
determined to follow them up. 

‘It seems that you have lost your 


170 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


tongue since your interview with Mr. 
Blodget,’ she said ; * but that is of very 
little consequence^ I can talk enough for 
you and I too, and as Gordon has left 
the house, you will, in all probability, 
have a little more of my company than 
you otherwise would have done.’ 

‘ Gordon left the house V repeated our 
heroine eagerly ; ‘ thank Heaven 1’ 

‘ Indeed !’ said the old woman ‘ then, 
if his absence affords you pleasure, I can 
tell you that it will not be of long dura- 
tion ; — he is only gone some distance on 
a secret mission, for which he is to re- 
ceive a handsome reward from Mr. Blod- 
get !’ 

‘ Ah !’ crie4 our heroine, turning very 
pale, and a feeling of horror coming over 
her ; * on a secret mission for Blodget ? 
In what fresh plot of villany is he en- 
gaged V 

‘ Oh, that I do not know ; and if I did, 
it is not very likely that I should inform 
you. It is something of importance I 
dare say, or else Gordon would not have 
been employed ; and no doubt concerns 
you.’ 

Inez felt her horror increase, and she 
trembled so that she could scarcely stand. 
The old hag observed her emotion with 
much satisfaction, and a savage grin 
overspread her features. 

‘ Something that concerns me ;’ she 
exclaimed, and her terrible forebodings 
convinced her that the old woman did 
not make use of these observations with- 
out good reason. 

‘ Oh, my dear friend !’ she added, as 
she recalled to her memory the dark 
hints which Blodget had given utterance 
to, and covering her face with her hands, 
she sobbed hysterically. ‘Ob, my un- 
fortunate rescuer;’ she continued, ‘I 
tremble for you ; surely this is some dark 


plot against you. Heaven protect you 
and avert the evil fate destined to you 
by your implacable enemy !’ 

‘ If Blodget only plays his cards sue 
cessfully, as he has hitherto done, I do 
not think that there is much chance of 
your seeing your poor unfortunate lover 
again ;’ said the hag with a sneer, and a 
look which was perfectly hideous. 

Poor Inez gazed upon the unnatural 
old beldame with a look of horror and 
disgust. 

‘Inhuman woman;’ she ejaculated, 
‘ thus to take a pleasure in tormenting 
one of your own sex, who has never of- 
fended you, and whose misfortunes and 
oppressions onght to excite your pity and 
sympathy.’ 

‘Pity and sympathy,’ repeated the 
woman, with bitter sarcasm ; ‘ they are 
qualities that none but fools would retain 
possession of ; I never experienced them 
from any person yet, and I have banished 
mine from my breast many years since.’ 

‘ I do believe you,’ sighed Inez ; ‘ but 
I can sincerely pity yow, for there will 
be a time come when you will be brought 
to a terrible sense of your iniquities, and 
awful will then be the punishment you 
will have to undergo.’ 

‘ Hey day 1’ exclaimed the. beldame ; 

‘ I declare you’re quite an adept at 
preaching a sermon, but its beauties are 
entirely lost upon me ; and I do not 
think that you will find Mr. Blodget any 
more ready to approve of them than I 
am.’ 

‘ Leave the room,’ said Inez, in a tone 
of resentment, ‘ and let me alone to my 
reflections ; your language is brutal, and 
I will not listen to it.’ 

‘ But I am afraid you will have to lis- 
ten to it very frequently,’ returned the 
old woman, ‘ as disagreeable as it may 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


be. As for leaving the room, you will 
please to recollect that you are not mis- 
tress here, consequently I shall not attend 
to your orders until it pleases me.’ 

Inez walked away, and throwing her- 
self into a chair, once more covered her 
face with her hands, determined not to 
pay any future attention to what the old 
harridan might say. The latter laughed 
sneeringly, and after muttering a few 
spiteful remarks that our heroine did 
not hear, she applied herself more assidu- 
ously to the task she had to perform in 
the room, and at the same time hummed, 
in discordant tones, snatches from differ- 
ent vulgar songs, which fell listlessly 
upon the ears of Inez, who was too deep- 
ly engaged by her own melancholy 
thoughts to pay any attention to them. 

At length having, much to the satis- 
faction of oar heroine, completed her 
domestic duties in the room, the woman 
fixed upon Inez a spiteful look, and then 
retired from the apartment. When she 
had gone, our heroine immediately sunk 
upon her knees, and, with upraised hands, 
she implored the mercy of the Supreme 
Being, and that He would protect her 
father and her lover from any danger by 
which they might be threatened. She 
arose more composed and confident, and 
endeavored to hope that, after all, the 
wicked designs of Blodget might be foil- 
ed, and that something w^ould yet trans- 
pire to release her from her present in- 
carceration, and the future persecution of 
the villain Blodget, for whom no punish- 
ment could be adequate to the different 
crimes he had been guilty of. 

Frequently did her thoughts revert to 
home, and she could well imagine the 
grief experienced at her mysterious dis- 
appearance. The idea of the deplorable 
condition of Monteaglewas maddening 


IVI 

nay, perhaps he was no more, and she 
was not present to receive his last sigh^ 
or to enfold him in a dying embrace.-— 
The thought was almost past endurance; 
and it was a fortunate thing for our he- 
roine that a torrent of tears came to the 
relief of her overcharged heart. 

Three weeks elapsed without any ma- 
terial change taking place in the situa- 
tion or prospects of Inez. Blodget visit- 
ed her every day, and she was annoyed 
by his disgusting importunities ; and fre- 
quently was he so worked up by the op- 
position which she offered to him, that 
he was half tempted to proceed to vio- 
lence ; but a secret power appeared to 
restrain him, and to watch over his un- 
fortunate victim. 

Blodget was in a state of considerable 
anxiety and suspense, for he had not yet 
heard anything from Gordon, and some- 
times he was fearful that he had been 
detected and was in custody ; but again 
he thought, if he had been so, he should 
see some account of it in the newspaper®, 
and he, therefore, at last endeavored to 
conclude that Gordon thought it prudent 
not to write to him, and that he was in 
a fair way of being ultimately successful 
in his blood-thirsty designs. 

The thieves had made several success- 
ful hauls, since the departure of Gordon, 
and they were not less anxious than Blod- 
get was to know what had become of 
him, and whether be was safe, for Gordon 
was acquainted with many circumstances 
that might greatly endanger them, should 
he be tempted to divulge them. Such 
is the doubt and suspicions that ever ex- 
ist between the guilty. 

At length, however, after another fort' 
night, a message arrived at the ranch o| 
Gordon, which came from him, and it 
may well be imagined with what eager 


172 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


baste Blodffet broke the seal, and glanced 
his eyes over the contents. They afiorded 
him the most unbounded satislaction. 

‘ Ah ! by the infernal host 1 this is cap- 
ital,’ exclaimed Blodget, when he had 
concluded perusing the letter; ‘my ven- 
geance will soon be complete ; and I have 
no doubt that Gordon will shortly be 
able to discover Monteagle, and to ac- 
complish the deed for which my soul* 
pants.’ 

He immediately sought out Jenldns, 
who was at his usual place of resort when 
he was not on his expeditions, and show- 
ed him the letter from Gordon. The 
robber captain perused it with satisfac- 
tion, and his apprehensions were now at 
rest. 

‘ What think you of the suggestion 
which Gordon has made V asked Blod- 
get, when Jenkins had finished reading 
the letter. 

‘Why, that it is a very excellent one,’ 
answ^ered the captain. 

‘ True,’ coincided Blodget. 

* You will avail yourself of it, then V 

‘Why, think you not I should be fool- 
ish to miss such an opportunity V 

‘ I do.’ 

‘ Gordon deserves an extra reward for 
this.’ 

‘ He is a shrewd fellow.’ 

‘ And one who does not stand particu- 
lar about trifles.’ 

‘No, crime and he are familiar. But 
how w’ould you accomplish -this design V 

‘I have not as yet had time to consid- 
er it properly,’ answered Blodget ; ‘ can 
you give me any advice, captain ?’ 

‘Gordon I do not think can do it with- 
out assistance.’ 

‘ Probably not.’ 

‘ If I and a crew run the risk of going 
in a boat to Mission Creek, and bring the 


fellow away, of course you will reward 
us V 

‘ Certainly ; but that course will be at- 
tended with much danger, for should the 
real character of your boat be known — ^ 

‘Oh, lean manage it so that there 
will be no danger of a discovery taking 
place,’ replied Jenkins. 

‘ Ah, then, be it so, and we will not 
fall out about the reward.’ 

‘Agreed,’ answered the captain, ‘an 
answer must, therefore, be despatched to 
the place where Gordon is staying, ac- 
quainting him with our intentions, so 
that he may make the necessary prepar- 
ations for carrying our designs into exe- 
cution.’ 

‘ It shall be done immediately. But 
think you that success is at all likely V 

‘It is all but certain.’ 

‘ And had Monteagle better be brought 
to the house where Inez is confined V 

‘ That you can use your own pleasure 
in,’ replied Jenkins. 

Blodget reflected for a few moments. 

‘No,’ he at last said, ‘it shall not be 
so at present ; I think it would be as well 
not to let Inez know anything about it 
for a short«time.’ 

‘Why so?’ 

‘ Why,’ returned Blodget, ‘in the first 
place, the sudden shock might be attend- 
ed with fatal consequences to her; and 
in the next, I think it would be better to 
break it out to her by degrees, and make 
the circumstance subservient to my de- 
signs upon her.’ 

‘That is my opinion,’ remarked Jen 
kins. ‘ but you are a fool, Blodget, to de- 
lay the indulgence of your desires so 
long, when you have it in your power to 
gratify them immediately. If you wait 
until you prevail upon the lady to con- 
sent. I think you will be likely to tarry a 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


173 


long while.* ‘ That is your opinion 

‘It is.’ 

‘ Mine is a different one.’ 

‘ You must have a very high opinion 
of your powers of captivation, if that is 
really your belief,’ returned Jenkins. 

‘ Perhaps so,’ said Blodget, ‘ but time 
will show ; and now that I have the pros- 
pect of getting, this fellow into my pow- 
er, I am the more disposed to wait pa- 
tiently and give my plans a fair trial.’ 

‘And wait until de Castro or his friends 
discover the retreat of the lady, force her 
from your power, and bring you to pun- 
ishment,’ rejoined Jenkins. 

‘ If Gordon is successful, there will be 
no fear of that.’ 

‘ May be so ; but you remember the 
old proverb — “ a bird in hand is worth 
two in the bush.” ’ 

‘ At any rate, I have made up my mind 
to run the chance of it.’ 

‘ Well, of course, you are at liberty to 
do as you think proper,’ observed the cap- 
tain ; but if you succeed in getting this 
youngster in our power, where do you 
think of placing him V 

‘Know you of any person that can be 
trusted with him V 

‘I do.’ 

‘ And does he reside far from this 
place V 

‘ Close upon the spot.’ 

‘ Is the place obscure ?’ 

‘ It is little frequented.’ 

‘And who is he V 

‘ One of my gang ; you may depend 
upon him.’ 

‘ ’Tis well ; and you think he will ac- 
cept of the charge ?’ 

‘ I am certain of it ; he would do it 
gladly.’ 

‘ Perhaps you will see him and make 


the proposal ; it would come better from 
your lips than mine.’ 

‘ I will do so.’ 

‘You have my thanks, captain.’ 

‘ ’Pshaw ! I don’t want them. But, 
mark now, he must be well paid for her 
trouble, and keeping the secret.’ 

‘ I have no objection to that.’ 

‘ This will be an expensive job for you.’ 

‘ Were it to cost me twenty times as 
much, I would not begrudge it to gratify 
my revenge.’ 

‘ You are a most implacable foe.’ 

‘ So my enemies have good reason to 
say.’ 

‘But come, there is no necessity for 
delay ; have the letter written and for- 
warded to Gordon as quickly as possible.’ 

‘ It shall be done.’ 

‘ In the meantime I will go down to 
Kitson, and make the proposal to him.’ 

‘ Ay, do ; and do not be afraid to 
promise a most liberal remuneration.’ 

‘ I will do sy, depend upon it.’ 

‘ And when do you propose starting on 
this expedition V 

‘ By the night after to-morrow, at the 
latest.’ 

‘Your promptitude pleases me.’ 

‘ Delay is dangerous ; that is always 
my motto.’ 

‘And a very good one ; I will adopt it 
on this occasion ; farewell.’ 

‘ Good night ; although I shall proba- 
bly see you again.’ 

‘Well do, if you can, for I shall be 
anxious to know whether or not this Kit- 
son, as you call him, will undertake this 
charge.’ 

‘ Oh, there is very little doubt but that 
he will do so.’ 

Having arrived at the conclusion of 
^this brief colloquy, the two worthies sep- 


1Y4 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


arated, and Blodget Vent his way to the 
ranch, to write the letter to Gordon ; 
elated at the prospect of the success of 
his diabolical stratagems, and determined 
at any expense or danger to prosecute 
them. 

In the epistle he gave Gordon all the 
information he could require, and highly 
praised his indefatigability, at the same 
time encouraging him to further exer- 
tions, by the promise of rewarding him 
accordingly. 

The letter was immediately forwarded 
to the proper quarter, and had not long 
done so, when Jenkins returned. 

‘ Well, captain, how have you suc- 
cedeed V asked Blodget. 

‘ As I anticipated.* 

‘ Then the man is w illing.’ 

‘He is.’ 

‘ And think you we may depend upon 
his secresy ?’ 

‘ There is no fear of that*!’ 

‘Did you not bind him by an oath ?’ 

‘ There was no necessity for that ! Kit- 
son’s word is his bond.’ 

‘ And did you make him acquainted 
with the particulars V 

‘ I was compelled to, to enable him 
to be more upon his guard.’ 

‘ Ay, true ! And you mentioned the 
reward V 

‘ It is not so much as I anticipated.’ 

‘ What is it?’ 

‘ He demands two hundred dollars.’ 

‘It shall be his freely, immediately the 
fellow is placed in his care, one hundred 
more to that, if he well perform his task, 
and keeps the secret inviolable.’ 

‘I tell you again, there is no fear of 
his not doing that.’ 

‘ Then all, so far is well,’ observed Blod- 
get. 


‘ It shall be so ; and now we will have 
a glass or two together, to drink success 
to this undertaking.’ 

‘ With all my heart,’ replied the cap- 
tain ; ‘ and taking his seat, bottles were 
immediately placed upon the table, and 
they proceeded to drink with much alac- 
rity, toast after toast following each other 
in rapid succession, while the deep pota- 
tions which they quaffed, took but a 
trifling effect upon them, so accustomed 
were they to habits of intemperance. 

‘Perhaps,’ said Blodget, after a pause, 
‘ it would have been much mere satis- 
factory had Gordon succeeded in des- 
patching him.’ 

‘ I like not the unnecessary shedding 
of human blood.’ 

‘ Then you have never felt the senti- 
ments that I do.’ 

‘You know not that; but, villain as I 
am, and have been from a boy, I never 
yet shed the blood of my fellow man, un- 
less it was in a fight and in self defence.* 

‘And yet you would have insisted up 
on one of your fellows committing mur- 
der, had not Gordon undertaken to do it.’ 

‘ Because I had pledged my word to 
you that it should be done, and nothing 
would have induced me to break it.’ 

‘Ha 1 ha ! ha!’ laughed out Blodget ; 
‘there’s honor for you, in the captain of 
a desperate gang of robbers.’ 

‘ Ay you may mock me, if you think 
proper, but I have spoken the truth.’ 

Blodget made no further observation, 
but walked away, and Jenkins rejoined 
his companions at their rendezvous. 

In the meantime Inez’ situation was 
just as helpless as ever, and Blodget dai- 
j ly continued to annoy her with importu- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


175 


nities, and hourly became more bold and 
confident in his manners towards her, 
and she noticed it, and could not help 
thinking that something had happened 
to occasion this alteration in his beha- 
vior, and at times her mind felt some 
severe misgivings, which she found it im- 
possible to comprehend. Blodget had 
not, however, yet mentioned anything, 
and, therefore, she could not entertain 
any positive suspicion. 

So well secured was every place, that 
our heroine had long ago given up all 
idea of escaping, and rested her only 
hope of deliverance upon her friends dis- 
covering her place of confinement ; but 
a circumstance, a short time after this, 
happened, which gave her some reason 
to hope. 

-Notwithstanding the utter disgust 
which our heroine ever evinced in the 
company of the old woman, she persist- 
ed in obtruding her society upon her at 
every opportunity, and, as we have be- 
fore stated, it was very evident that she 
felt a pleasure in making Inez miserable. 
Guilt is always envious of the virtues it 
never possessed, and feels a delight in 
evincing its hatred of its possessor in ev- 
ery possible way. This, however, she 
concealed from Blodget, well aware that 
he would not approve of it, and Inez con- 
sidered it too contemptible to take any 
notice of it, and if she had, she would 
not have troubled herself to mention it 
to her persecutor, who might feel little 
disposed to trouble himself in the matter. 

The woman would make any excuse 
to be in the same room with our heroine, 
and when she was tired of talking to her, 
Inez seldom condescending her a reply, 
she would sing portions of vulgar songs, 
in a manner which would have done 
honor to Sydney Valley in its darkest 


days. The mind of Inez, however, was 
so fully occupied with her own thoughts 
that she seldom paid any attention to 
to her, and not unfrequently was she al- 
most entirely unconscious of her pres- 
ence. 

It was one evening, a short time after 
the events which we have been recording 
had taken place, that the hag paid our 
heroine her accustomed and unwelcome 
visit, and, as soon as she entered the 
room, Inez could perceive that she had 
been drinking and was quite intoxicated. 
This circumstance rather alarmed her, for 
she was afraid that the old woman being 
thus excited, might be guilty of some 
excesses ; but still she reflected, she had 
nothing to apprehend from her, as the 
persons who were in the ranch would be* 
sure to come to her aid, and thus she 
was in safety. But to be alone, and in 
the power of wretches who cared not 
what crime they committed, was suflS- 
cient of itself to fill her mind with ter- 
ror, and she had great difficulty in sup- 
porting her feelings. 

The old woman staggered to a seat, 
for she could scarcely stand, and having 
dropped into it, she raised her blood-shot 
eyes towards the countenance of our he- 
roine, and fixed upon her a look expres- 
sive of her usual malevolence. Inez 
averted her head, and, taking up a book, 
pretended to be reading ; but the old 
woman was not to be diverted that way, 
and, after several inefl*ectual attempts to 
speak, she stammered out — 

‘ They are all gone out but one man, 
and he has fallen asleep by the fire, and 
so I thought I would come up stairs and 
keep you company, you are fond of my 
company, I know.* 

This speech was accompanied by sun- 
dry hiccups, and the disgusting old wo 


1Y6 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


man rolled about in the chair apparently 
in the most uncomfortable manner. Inez 
trembled, but she endeavored to conceal 
her fears as much as possible, and pre- 
tended to be continuing to read the book 
she held in her hand, and did not make 
any reply. 

‘Mr. Blodget is a very foolish man,’ 
continued the old woman — ‘ he is a very 
foolish man, or he would not stand shil- 
ly-shallying and dilly-dallying with you, 
my fine lady, in the manner he has. Such 
squeamish minxes, indeed ; poh !’ 

We need not attempt to describe the 
feelings of our heroine, while the old 
woman was thus proceeding ; she endea- 
vored to close her ears to the words she 
was giving utterance to, but in vain, and 
the disgust which she felt was most un- 
bounded. 

‘ Why don’t you answer me?’ de- 
manded the beldame in a surly tone ; ‘ I 
suppose you think yourself above me, 
don t^ou ? But I can tell you you are 
not. You are a prisoner, but I am not, 
and — 

A very long yawn stopped the old 
woman’s tirade, and her head dropped 
upon the table. She muttered two or 
three incoherent words, and shortly after- 
wards her loud snoring convinced our 
heroine that the effects of the liquor she 
had been drinking had overpowered her, 
and that she had fallen off to sleep. 

Inez laid down her book; a sudden 
thought darted across her mind, and her 
heart palpitated with emotion. She re- 
membered what the woman had said 
about there being but one man in the 
house, and that he was asleep below. — 
The room door was open — the old wo- 
man slept soundly, and she was not 
likely to be awakened easily — a famous 
opportunity presented itself for her to 


attempt to make her escape. The chance 
was worth encountering any danger in 
making the effort, and she determined to 
avail herself of it. 

Hastily putting on her shawl, Inez 
mentally invoked the assistance of Hea- 
ven, and then, with noiseless footsteps, 
approached the chair on which the old 
woman was sitting, to make sure that she 
was not assuming drunkenness and sleep, 
and she was soon convinced that she was 
not. She now lightly stepped on to the 
landing, and closing the door gently up- 
on the unconscious old woman, locked it 
after her, and thus left her a secure pri- 
soner. She then leant her head over the 
bannisters, and listened attentively, but 
hearing no noise below, she was in hope 
that all was right, and ventured to begin 
to descend the stairs. 

Having passed down one flight, she 
once more paused and listened attentive- 
ly, but all remained as still as death, and 
her hopes became more sanguine. 

At length she reached tho door of the 
parlor, which was closed, and Inez hesi- 
tated, and her heart beat so vehemently 
against her side that she could scarcely 
support herself. 

‘ Courage, Courage !’ she whispered to 
herself, ‘ this is the critical moment. Let 
me be firm, and I may escape.’ 

Her trembling and hesitation decreas- 
ed as these thoughts crossed her mind, 
and she laid her hand on the handle of 
the door. It opened with a creaking 
noise, which again excited her fear, lest 
it should arouse the man ; but her alarm 
was, fortunately groundless. A light 
was burning on the table, and the fire 
dast forth a cheerful blaze, and by their 
light our heroine beheld a ruffian seated 
in the chair, his arms folded across his 
chest, and fast asleep. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


177 


Inez’s heart hounded, and hope was 
strengthened tenfold. The near prospect 
of liberty excited in her breast a feeling 
of extacy which may be conceived but 
cannot be described. The moon shone 
brightly in at the window, and its silvery^ 
beams seemed to smile encouragement 
upon her. Another moment, she re- 
flected, and she might inhale the pure 
air, and be as free. The thought nerved 
her on ; and knowing that every moment 
was fraught with danger, she determined 
to act with promptitude. But the sleep- 
ing ruffian was so seated that she could 
not gain the door without passing him 
closely, and then she must act with the 
greatest caution or she might arouse 
him. She advanced one step, but hastily 
retreated again, hearing him yawn, and 
he seemed as if he was about to awaken. 
She stood in trembling suspense, but it 
was not for long ; the man having 
stretched out his arms, and yawned two 
or three times, sunk back on his chair 
again, and his loud snoring soon con- 
vinced her that he was again asleep. 

She now once more commended her- 
self to the protection of Heaven, and 
again advanced towards the door. She 
had passed the sleeping ruffian — the 
door was in her hand, and liberty was 
just before her ; when there was a loud 
noise, like that of some heavy weight 
falling, from the room above ; and Inez 
was so alarmed that she had not the 
power of moving one way or the other, 
but stood at the door trembling violently. 

The noise immediately aroused the 
man, and, hastily starting to his feet, he 
rubbed his eyes, and stared eagerly 
around the room. They instantly rested 
on our unfortunate heroine, and, giving 
utterance to a dreadful oath, he rushed 
towards her, and seizing her fiercely by 


the arm, dragged her back. Inez sunk 
upon her knees, and in terrified accents 
exclaimed — 

‘Oh, mercy, mercy! spare me — save 
me, for the love of Heaven, save me 1’ 

‘Ah! you would escape?’ exclaimed 
the rufiian ; ‘ speak, answer me — how 
did you contrive to leave the apartment 
in which you have been confined V 

The ruffian looked ferociously upon 
her while he spoke, and Inez trembled 
more violently than before when she 
gazed upon the frightful features of the 
man. Her lips quivered, and in vain 
did she endeavor to articulate a syllable. 

‘ Speak, I tell you again !’ demanded 
the villain ; ‘ how came you hither ? 
By what means did you contrive to 
leave the room V 

‘ The door was left unfastened,’ faul- 
tered out Inez ; ‘ oh, do not harm me.’ 

‘ The door left unfastened V repeated 
the man ; ‘ who left it so ?’ 

‘ The woman.’ 

‘ Ah ! the old hag — if she has done 
this she shall answer for it. But where 
is she ?’ 

‘ In the room I have just quitted, and 
asleep,’ replied Inez. 

‘ Ah ! I see how it is ; myself and her 
have been indulging ourselves rather too 
freely, and both are equally to blame ; 
we must be more cautious for the future. 
Come, my girl, you must allow me to es- 
cort you to your old quarters, and de- 
pend upon it, you will not have such 
another opportunity as this. Come !’ 

‘ Oh,’ supplicated our heroine, not 
thinking in the despair of the moment, 
of the uselessness of appealing to the 
flinty heart of the wretch, ‘ do not con- 
sign me, I beseech you, to that dismal 
apartment again, take pity upon me, a 
deeply injured woman as I am, and sufier 


178 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


me to escape. Believe me, you shall be 
amply rewarded for such an inestimable 
service.’ 

*0h, no,’ returned the ruffian and a 
malignant grin overspread his counte- 
nance ; ‘ it won’t do, I’m not to de caught 
in that way ; I can very well understand 
what my reward would be, but they must 
catch me before they give it me. Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! Come, come, you must come 
with me, or I must use force — that’s all 
about it.’ 

Poor Inez clasped her hands in the in- 
tensity of her grief, and finding that it 
would be useless to entreat any further, 
with a despairing heart, she slowly re- 
traced her footsteps to the chamber from 
which she had so recently escaped, fol- 
lowed by the wretch. 

On opening the door they found the 
old woman stretched at full length upon 
the floor; and it was evident that it was 
from her that the noise had proceeded, 
which so unfortunately aroused the man, 
and prevented her escape, at the very 
moment when the chance was before her. 

It was some time before the thief could 
arouse the old woman to sensibility, and 
when she did so, he commanded her 
sternly to follow him. 

‘ Hey day 1’ cried the hag, rubbing her 
eyes, and looking with stupified amaze- 
ment at our heroine, who had sunk des- 
pairingly in a chair, and leaning her el- 
bow upon the table, and her head upon 
her hand, was weeping bitterly ; ‘ what’s 
the matter now ?’ 

‘ What’s the matter !’ reiterated the 
man, ‘ why, that through your infernal 
stupidity, the bird had nearly flown.’ 

* Ah — what, do you mean to say that 
she had nearly escaped V croaked forth 
the old woman, and she looked more sav- 
age than ever at Inez. 


‘ Yes, I mean to say that she would 
have escaped,’ replied he, ‘ and a pretty 
scrape we should then both have got in- 
to.’ 

* Why, where was I at the time ?’ 

* Fast asleep, and a Scafe prisoner in this 
room, locked in.’ 

‘ Locked in !’ ejaculated the beldame, 
‘ oh, I see it all now, that confounded 
gin got the better of me, and you too, I 
think, and, therefore, one is as much to 
blame as the other. We ought to thank 
our lucky stars that it has turned out as 
it has. But the artful jade, to lock me 
in, to — to — ^ 

‘ There, that’s enough,’ interrupted the 
fellow, ‘ you would stand talking here all 
night. We will leave the^lady to her 
own reflections, which, doubtless, will not 
be very pleasant. Blodget will be home 
shortly, I expect, and, should he find us 
together, he might suspect something 
wrong. Good night, my lady, and when 
you next try to escape, you had better 
use a little more expedition with your 
caution. Come, we must see and ar- 
range this business somehow or anoth- 
er.’ 

The old woman fixed upon Inez one 
more malicious look, and appeared to ex- 
ult in the agony she was undergoing at 
having been thwarted in her attempt, 
and then following the wretch, they both 
quitted the room, and secured the door 
after them. 

They both congratulated themselves 
when they had got below, that Inez had 
not been successful, and were determined 
to be more cautious in future. Another 
moment, and our heroine would have 
been at liberty, and they trembled when 
they reflected upon the consequences 
that would have been certain to follow 
her escape. They both, however, con- 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


17Q 


sidered that it would be better for them 
not to mention anything about iUoBlod- 
get or the others, as it would only excite 
■his suspicions that all was not right, and 
probably deprive them of his confidence 
and friendship, which, as he was very 
liberal, was not to be treated lightly. 
Thus the afifair was amicably arranged 
between the two worthies, and the old 
spitfire determined to annoy our unfortu- 
nate heroine more than ever, for the ‘ au- 
dacious ’ (as she termed it) attempt she 
had made to escape, and moreover, for 
her unparalleled presumption and atroci- 
ty, in having actually made her a prison- 
er in the very place where she had been 
herself confined. 

As for poor Inez, she was completely 
overwhelmed with the intensity of her 
anguish and disappointment, and for some 
time after the man and the old woman 
had left her, she remained in almost a 
state of unconsciousness. 

‘ Alas,’ she at last ejaculated, beating 
her breast, ‘fate has conspired against 
me, and I am doomed to perpetual mis- 
ery. Am I never to escape from the 
power of these wretches ? Has the Om- 
nipotent Being entirely forsaken me? Oh, 
God ! let me die rather than live to en- 
dure this succession of miseries and dis- 
appointments.’ 

She clasped her burning temples, and 
arising from her chair, traversed the room 
in the greatest possible agony. If Blod- 
get should become acquainted with the 
circumstance, she could not help think- 
ing that he would be induced to adopt 
even more stringent measures towards 
her ; but then she consoled herself with 
the reflection that it was not likely that 
the man or the old woman would let 
him know anything about it, as they 
would be blamed for neglect, and Blodget 


would deem it prudent to remove her to 
some other place of confinement. She 
passed two or three hours in the greatest 
state of agitation, and could not venture 
to retire to rest, but listened to the slight- 
est sound which proceeded from below, 
fearing to hear the villain Blodget return 
home. 

At length all was still in the house, 
and tired out with thinking, Inez com- 
mitted herselt to the care of Providence, 
and undressing herself, hastened into 
bed, and, in spite of the state of her mind, 
after the painful event which we have 
been detailing, she was so weary, that it 
was not long ere she sunk to sleep. 

CHAPTER XVH. 

The Seducer Mesisted, 

' We left our heroine in a calm slumber, 
into which she had sunk after the fatigue 
of thinking and the anguish of her mind. 
She continued in it until a storm arose, 
which awoke her, and jumping up in the 
bed, she scarcely knew where she was. 
Confused thoughts darted across her per- 
turbed imagination, and she had in an 
instant a foreboding, a presentiment, that 
something particular was about to occur 
to her. She heard no one but the old 
woman moving below, and recollecting 
that she had seen Blodget quit the house 
at an early hour in the morning, she 
thought it was probable that he had not 
yet returned, and she became rather more 
composed. Then, however, she remem- 
bered some dark hints which the hateful 
old woman had thrown out to her in the 
morning, and again were her utmost ap- 
prehensions of some fresh misery excited* 


180 


MYBTERTES AND MISERIES 


Sometime she continued in this manner, 
when she heard a confusion of voices 
from below, among which she distin- 
guished that of a female and Blodget’s, 
but she could not understand a single 
word that they gave utterance to. 

She now endeavored to calm her feel- 
ings, and prepare for the meeting which 
she 2iad no doubt would take place be- 
tween her and Blodget ; who she resolved 
to meet with all the fortitude she could 
possibly muster. She knelt down, and 
supplicated the aid of the Almighty ; and 
implored that He w^ould frustrate the de- 
signs of the wicked, and not suffer her 
to fall a victim to the diabolical strata- 
gems of the miscreant who at present 
held her in his power. 

As it eve4* is the case, when the sincere 
heart breathes its prayers to Heaven, our 
heroine felt almost immediately more 
tranquil and prepared to meet her op- 
pressor, and she arose from her knees 
with a determination to support herself 
with' an air of fortitude, which should 
abash rather than encourage the villain’s 
nefarious hopes. 

She had not long come to this resolu- 
tion, when she heard a footstep ascending 
the stairs, and shortly afterwards the door 
of her apartment was unbolted, and the 
door was opened, and the object of her 
hatred and her fears presented himself 
before her. She met his looks firmly, 
and with an air of becoming dignity, and 
it was evident, although he endeavored 
to disguise it, that something of more 
importance than usual occupied his 
thoughts. 

He stood for a second or two in the 
doorway, and seemed anxious to address 
her, yet at a loss how to begin. Then he 
seemed abashed at the calm dignity of 
Inez’s manner, and at the same time lost 


in admiration of her extreme beauty, 
which, although much impaired by the 
ravages of cave, was still most superla- 
tive. 

Notwithstanding the firmness which 
she assumed, Inez felt a trembling appre- 
hension of the interview ; and had much 
difficulty in conquering her feelings. 

At length Blodget advanced nearer to 
our heroine, closing the door after him, 
and after several ineffectual attempts to 
speak, he observed, in as insinuating 
tone as he could assume — 

‘ Beauteous Inez, after a tenfporary ab- 
sence from your presence, which has ap- 
peared an age to me, I again come to 
bask in the sunshine of your beauty — 
again to solicit a return of that passion 
which I so ardently feel for you.’ 

‘ Villain !’ ejaculated Inez, ‘ receive my 
answer in the utter contempt, disgust, 
abhorrence I feel for you ; and rest as- 
sured that no other feeling can ever in- 
habit my breast towards a wretch who 
has proved himself destitute of every 
feeling of humanity.’ 

‘ This violence is useless,’ returned 
Blodget; ‘I have given you plenty of 
time to consider : ‘ this day I come hither 
to decide : I have waited patiently long 
enough.’ 

‘ Monster !’ cried the distracted lady, 
and her eyes at the same time beamed 
an expression which seemed as if it would 
penetrate to his soul ; where is my poor 
father, from whom you have so merciless- 
ly torn me t Can you recollect the 
unparalleled act of cruelty you have been 
guilty of, and yet stand there and talk to 
me, the affianced bride of another, about 
love ?’ 

‘ To all these passionate expressions I 
pay little or no attention ; for they affect 
me not,’ returned the hardouod villain. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


181 


‘It is enough that I have fixed my mind 
on you ; I have labored hard, ^nd risked 
much, to get possession of you — you are 
now in my power, and mine, in spite of 
all intreaties and tears, shall be !’ 

‘ Oh, heartless miscreant.’ 

‘ Nay, think not that I would willingly 
resort to violence,’ observed Blodget, in 
a milder tone of voice ; ‘ no, I would win 
you by my actions ; by my love ; — I 
would be to you the most ardent and af- 
fectionate companion that woman desire ; 
I ’ 

‘ Cease 1’ interrupted Inez, in a com- 
manding tone of voice, which seemed to 
enforce immediate obedience ; ‘I will not 
listen to your guilty language, it disgusts 
me. Your presence makes me feel as if 
a fiend, instead of a human being, were 
standing before me ; begone ! arfti leave 
me again to the solitude of my unjust 
confinement. 

‘ Not yet, fair Inez,’ returned Blodget, 
with a supercilious smile ; ‘ you and I 
must not part until we understand each 
other.’ 

‘ I perfectly understand you, sir,’ said 
Inez, ‘ and depend upon it, all that you 
can say will but add to the utter abhor- 
rence which I bear towards you.’ 

‘ But you must yield 1’ 

‘ Never !’ 

‘ How can you save yourself ? Are 
you not in my power ?’ 

‘ True ; but I have a friend in Provi- 
dence who will not suffer me to fall a 
victim to the nefarious designs of a dia- 
bolical villain like you.’ 

‘ Upon my word you are very liberal 
with your compliments said Blodget, 
with a half-sneering laugh, although it 
was very plain to be seen that he was 
very much chagrined at the manner in 
which our heroine addressed him. 


Is there any epithet strong enough 
that I can apply to a man like you V de- 
manded Inez. ‘ Has not your conduct 
proved you to be a miscreant, too — ’ 

‘ Come, come,’ interrupted Blodget, 
and a slight scowl passed over his brows, 
‘ I do not mind a little flattery, but when 
it proceeds to extremes. I must acknowl- 
edge that I have not a stomach to take 
it. Any epithet that you may apply to 
me, you must be aware cannot have any 
other effect than that of exasperating 
me to that which I might afterwards be 
sorry for. But how can you be so fool- 
ish as to remain thus obstinately opposed 
to the wishes of a man who would 
make it his unceasing study to render 
you happy V 

‘ Happy !’ exclaimed Inez, ‘ and dare 
you talk to me of happiness, when I am 
torn from all that renders life desirable ! 
Wretch, unnatural monster you must 
think me, to be capable of listening to 
the licentious vows of a man who has 
been the author of all my miseries I 
Talk to me of happiness, and keep me 
confined in this awful house, surrounded 
only by the votaries of guilt, who would 
not hesitate to dye their hands in my 
blood.’ 

‘ They dare not ; they act alone by 
my orders,’ answered Blodget. ‘But 
why thus delay the time in conversing 
on matters of no immediate interest? 
Again, Inez, I solicit your love. Say 
that you will be mine, all but that which 
the idle ceremony of wedlock can make 
you, and there is not a pleasure which 
gold can purchase, or this world supply, 
which you shall not have at your com- 
mand. We will hasten far from hence, 
and in a place where we are unknown, 
forget that there are others than our- 
selves in existence.’ 


182 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


Inez shuddered with horror at the cool- 
ness and effrontery with which the liber- 
tine uttered these expressions, and she 
could scarcely believe that she was stand- 
ing in the presence of a human being. 

‘ Oh, no,’ replied Blodget, ‘ think not 
that I can be induced to leave you so 
soon this day, at any rate. Upon your 
determined answer your fate depends.’ 

‘ You have already had my answer,’ 
returned Inez. 

‘ Will nothing persuade you to alter 
it V ^ 

‘ Nothing, by Heaven ? 

‘ Beware ! take not an oath 1’ 

* I can with safety, for nothing would 
induce me to swerve from it.’ 

‘ You had better bethink yourself.’ 
have thought sufficiently, and lam 
decided.’ 

‘ Recollect that, if you refuse, I shall 
be compelled to resort to force.’ 

* I will die first.’ 

‘ You will not have the means.’ 

* Almighty God surely ,will never suffer 
so black a deed.’ 

‘Bah ! — that is all idle cant. Think, 
too, that if you refuse, you will still be 
kept here a prisoner, deprived of every 
comfort, and yet subservient to my 
wishes.’ 

‘Oh, horror! You cannot surely be 
the monster !’ 

‘ I would not willingly, but you would 
drive me to it.’ 

* Oh, repent, repent I’ 

‘Pshaw! Will that gratify my de- 
sires ?’ 

* It will afford me a far greater gratifi- 
cation.’ 

‘ I shall not try it.’ 

‘ Alas ! you are indeed a guilty mis- 
creant.’ 


‘ Thank you, again, for your compli- 
ment ; I have pointed out to you the 
horrors that will attend your refusal ; 
say, shall I point out to you the happi- 
ness that will attend you, if you comply 
with my request ?’ 

‘ I want not to hear them, they cannot 
make any alteration in my determination,’ 
answered our heroine, covering her face 
with her handkerchief, and sobbing aloud 
with her disgusted and wounded feelings. 

‘ Still must I think that you will change 
your mind ; returned Blodget with the 
same guilty expression of countenance in 
which his features were almost constant- 
ly clad — ‘ remember the sweets of liberty 
will then be your’s.’ 

‘ And of what use would liberty be to 
me, when it would be purchased by a 
life of infamy ?’ demanded Inez ; ‘could 
anything ever reconcile it to my con- 
science, to become the base paramour of 
a guilty being like you ? The bare 
thought fills me with a sensation of the 
utmost dread, and death in its most hor- 
rible form would be preferable to such a 
course of life.’ 

‘ But is there nothing that could pre- 
vail upon you V 

‘Nothing;’ answered Inez, with a look 
of the greatest disgust and horror. 

‘ Think again !’ 

‘ I have nothing more to say upon the 
detested subject.’ 

‘ If, by so doing, you could purchase 
the life of Monteagle ’ 

‘ Ah ! ’ grasped forth Inez, turning 
deadly pale, and clutching the arm of 
Blodget, and with distended eye-lids ; — 
‘ what mean you ? Speak 1 speak ! — 
I know you have something of a particu- 
lar nature to impart to me ! Reveal it ! 
I beseech you, and keep me not in sus- 


OP SAN FRANCISCO. 


183 


pense ! — Oh, Blodget if you have indeed 
any regard for my feelings, tell me, 
what of Monteagle V 

‘ Calm your feelings !’ 

‘ You rack me V 

‘ Compose yourself 1’ 

* Talk not to me of composure !’ shriek- 
ed Inez. 

* He is in my power,’ 

Poor Inez tried hard to speak, but 
she could not ; she was transfixed to the 
spot, and gazed upon Blodget with a 
look in which the greatest astonishment 
and horror were depicted. The an- 
nouncement of Blodget came like a 
thunderbolt upon her, and her faculties 
seemed to be all bound up in the sudden- 
ness and unexpectedness of the circum- 
stance. 

‘ If you are not a monster of the black- 
est dye,’ exclaimed Inez at length, ‘ you 
will not delight in thus harrowing my 
feelings! but tell me have you spoken 
the truth ? Do not keep me in suspense! 
Oh, do not ! Have you indeed said that 
which is true V 

* I have,’ answered Blodget ; — ‘ Mont- 
eagle is now in my power.’ 

‘Are you bent to drive me mad V ex- 
claimed the frenzied Inez, as, with clasp- 
ed hands, she gazed vehemently and sup- 
plicatingly in the countenance of her 
oppressor. 

‘ No, no ! I would restore you to hap- 
piness,’ replied Blodget. 

‘ Happiness !’ groaned Inez ; ‘ oh, cruel 
mockery to talk to me thus ; and to con- 
tinue to keep me in this state of agony 
and suspense.’ 

‘ Compose yourself,’ again remonstrat- 
ed Blodget, in a gentler tone, than he 
had before spoken, and at the same time 
venturing to approach her closer ; ‘com- 


pose yourself. Consent to my wishes, 
and Monteagle shall at once be free. — 
Refuse he dies !’ 

‘Never, miscreant.’ cried Inez, and 
fell powerless to the floor. 

Blodget was alarmed, — so still and 
marble-like did the fair girl lie. No mo- 
tion of her white bosom gave the slight- 
est evidence that she breathed. 

The villain trembled, and for an in- 
stant remorse touch-ed his heart. But 
no sooner did a slight convulsive shudder 
show that she still lived, than he turned 
and left the apartment. 

Blodget sent the old woman to Inez, 
who succeeded in restoring her to con- 
sciousness. 

The next morning Jenkins returned. 
He seemed in haste. 

Sending for several members of his 
gang he was soon engaged in earnest 
conversa ion. 

‘ Gordon, say not a word to Blodget/ 
said Jenkins. 

‘ Should he try to escape 1’ said Gor- 
don. 

‘ Shoot him, as you would a mad cay- 
otte,’ said Jenkins. 

‘ Had we not best confine him ?’ 

‘ No, — wait my return. He will prob- 
ably send for Kay, Maretzo, and others 
of his old cronies. If he tries to bribe 
one of you to take a message for him to 
them affect to be won over by his gold, 
carry the message for him, and then 
hasten to me at the Mission.’ 

‘ But where are you to be found, cap- 
tain ?’ 

‘Joaquin will inform you of ray where- 
abouts.’ 

‘ But, captain, why do you wish Kay 
and the rest of them to be engaged in 
this affair f’ 


184 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


‘ In order that they may be captured 
in the actual commission of a daring 
crime — as they will doubtless hasten to 
assist Blodget to carry off the lady.’ 

Jenkins then visited Blodget. 

To the great surprise of Blodget, Jen- 
kins instead of greeting him with friend- 
ly warmth, rejected his proffered hand, 
and addressing him sternly, said : ‘ I am 
about to leave this place for a few days, 
if during my absence you insult Miss 
Inez by word or look, or ever approach 
the rooms she occupies, you shall as sure- 
ly die as my name is Jenkins !’ Then 
turning to a young girl, who had accom- 
panied him to the house, the robber-cap- 
tain addressed her thus : ‘ Alice, you will 
I know do all you can to make this poor 
young lady as happy as possible while I 
am away. I do not promise you any re- 
w^ard, for I know your own goodness of 
heart has induced you to volunteer to be 
her friend and companion.’ 

Jenkins then gave the old woman in- 
structions to obey Alice on every point, 
and whispering a few words to Gordon 
Jenkins left the apartment, and soon af- 
ter the house. 

Blodget was astounded at this change 
in the behavior of Jenkins, and concluded 
that he had informed upon him, and thus 
made his own peace with the authorities. 
He was confirmed in this, when he went 
to step from the house, for Gordon step- 
ped up to him, and plaeing a revolver at 
his breast, threatened to shoot him if he 
crossed the threshold. Finding an at- 
tempt to escape would only lead to his 
instant death, Blodget determined during 
Jenkins’ absence to consummate his in- 
tentions on Inez, and then devise some 
mode of gaining Gordon to allow him to 
escape. 

The girl whom Jenkins had addressed 


as Alice, had seen some seventeen springs, 
the apple-blossoms of which were not 
more beautifully tinted than her fair 
cheeks ; nor their skies a deeper blue 
than her love-lit eyes. Her form was per* 
feet — her step light and springy as an 
antelope’s. Her name was Alice Hewlett, 
and she was known in the neighborhood 
as ‘ the Squatter’s Daughter.’ She had 
heard of a lady’s being being confined 
in Gordon’s house, and readily availed 
herself of the request of Jenkins to be 
the fair captive’s companion, until she 
could be restored to her friends. 

Alice immediately went to Inez. 

‘ My dear young lady, I come to stay 
with you.’ 

Inez gazed inquiringly upon her fair, 
ingenuous face. 

‘ You may safely trust me. Miss.’ 

‘ I do — I do — dear girl. Vice never 
wore so fair a front.’ 

* Lady, I will not leave you, but at 
your request.’ 

‘ Oh, thanks, thanks. You know not 
what a load you’ve taken from my sad 
heart.’ 

Jenkins went to the old crone, and 
gave her some directions, adding sternly 

‘ Mind and do as I have told you!’ 

The old woman muttered an obedi- 
ence to his orders, and he immediately 
quitted the room. 

He had not been gone many minutes, 
when she retired to her own little closet, 
where she always had a bottle or two of 
‘ the best,’ and was soon in a fair way to 
enjoy herself, and to become entirely un- 
concious of all that was taking place; and 
Blodget hailing the so long-looked for op- 
portunity with pleasure, he ascended the 
stairs on tiptoe, and having reached the 
rooms appropriated to the use of Inez, he 
knocked. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


185 


Alice, probably thinking it was the 
woman, quickly opened the door, but 
started back with no little amazement, 
when she beheld the villain Blodget. — 
He instantly stepped into the room, and 
Inez hearing the exclamation which Al- 
ice had given utterance to came from her 
room, but on seeing Blodget, she turned 
very pale, and trembled so violently that 
she could scarcely prevent herself from 
sinking on the floor. 

The forbidding features of Blodget re- 
laxed into a smile, which he meant to be 
one of kindness, but he could not con- 
ceal his exultation, and the guilty pas- 
sions that raged like a tempest within his 
bosom, and turning to Alice, he said, in 
an authoritative tone — 

‘ Leave the room.’ 

Alice hesitated, and looked at our her- 
oine. 

‘ Do you hear ?’ demanded Blodget, in 
a louder tone; — ‘ begone, I’ve something 
to say to this lady, which must not meet 
your ear.’ 

‘You should have nothing to say to 
me, sir, which should be kept a secret 
from a second person. Alice, I desire you 
to remain where you are ; Mr. Blodget 
can have uo authority for obtruding his 
hateful presence upon one whom he has 
already so deeply,so irreparably injured. 
Do not depart, Alice ! — I desire you V 

‘ These mandates are of no avail,’ cried 
Blodget ; ‘I have long sought this inter- 
view, and I will not now be foiled. Be- 
gone, I say !’ 

‘ I’ll remain where I am, sir, while it is 
the wish of the lady,’ returned Alice, in a 
firm tone. 

‘Ah r exclaimed Blodget ; his eyes ex- 
pressive of fierce anger, ‘dare you? — 
Then you must go by force.’ 

Immediately seizing Alice, as he spoke. 


by the shoulders, he pushed her violent- 
ly from the room, and closing the door, 
locked it, preventing her return. He 
advanced towards Inez, who, upon the 
impulse of the moment, was in the act 
of retreating to her chamber, and fast- 
ening herself in, when the villain sprang 
quickly forward, and seizing her vehe- 
mently by the arm, he drew her back. 

‘ Unmanly rufiaan !’ cried Inez, ‘ un- 
hand me, or my cries shall reach the 
ears of those who will punish you for 
your boldness and cruelty! What is the 
meaning of this savage outrage ?’ 

‘ It means, fair Inez,’ replied Blodget, 
forcibly throwing his arm around her 
waist, and drawing her towards him, 
‘that, finding I have too long been a for- 
bearing fool, when I had you in my pow- 
er*, I am determined that I will no long- 
er wait for the gratification of my wish- 
es. I have condescended to sue to you, 
where I might long since have enforced 
your compliance; I have made you eve- 
ry reasonable proposal, and have submit- 
ted patiently to your scorn, and contemp- 
tuous rejection of my suit, but I am now 
roused to a full sense of my folly, and am 
determined at all hazards, that you shall 
be mine 1’ 

‘ Brutal monster!’ exclaimed Inez, vio- 
lently struggling ; for the expressions of 
Blodget, and his determined demeanor, 
filled her with the utmost terror — ‘ are 
you not satisfied with probably having 
murdered my unfortunate father, and in- 
flicted upon me a series of miseries al- 
most unparallelled in the annals of inhu- 
manity, but that you would now add to 
your barbarity by so atrocious a crime as 
you threaten ? Oh, help ! help ! — Holy 
Virgin, I call upon thee for thy protec- 
tion ! — Oh, save me ! save me !’ 

As the distracted and terrified lady 


186 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


tEus screamed, she struggled violently 
to extricate herself from the embraces of 
the ruffian Blodget, but her efforts were 
for some time entirely ineffectual, and 
with every endeavor she made, the pas- 
sions of Blodget increased, and his cheeks 
glowed and his eyes flashed with the 
guilty desires that raged within his 
breast. He sought, however, to stifle 
her cries, but in vain. 

‘ Nay,’ he cried, ‘ you scream for help 
in vain ; there is no one at hand to in- 
terpose to save you ! The triumph so 
long protracted, now is mine ! This 
hour; this very moment gives you to 
my arms I’ 

‘ Almighty God ! protect me ! save 
me again shrieked our heroine, in the 
most frantic accents, and, with a des- 
perate effort she released herself from 
Blodget’s hold, and retreated to the far- 
ther end of the apartment, where, on a 
table, was a knife. Scarcely knowing 
what she did, she snatched it up, and, as 
Blodget approached towards her, she 
flourished it menacingly, and exclaimed : 

‘ Villain ! advance but an inch towards 
me, and this knife shall stretch me a 
bleeding corpse at your feet !’ 

Blodget was completely staggered by 
the determined air which Inez assumed, 
and he was transfixed to the spot where- 
^on he stood, not knowing what course to 
pursue. 

Our heroine still flourished the knife 
menacingly, and kept the villain at bay. 

‘ You see I am resolute,’ she cried ; 
‘ and, by Heaven, sooner than I will be 
dishonored, I will put my threat into ex- 
ecution ! Death is preferable to the 
dreadful, the disgusting fate which you 
have threatened me. Nay, nothing can 
move me from my purpose ! Quit the 
room, miscreant; unless you would have 


my death to answer for, in addition to 
your other numerous crimes I’ 

‘ Inez,’ ejaculated Blodget, offering to 
approach her ; ‘ hear me !’ 

‘ Not a word,’ firmly replied Inez ; ‘no- 
thing whatever can shake my resolution; 
begone I’ 

At that moment a loud noise was 
heard at the chamber door, and imme- 
diately afterwards the voices of several 
persons. 

Blodget turned pale and trembled. 

‘Ah !’ he ejaculated. 

‘ Open the door, or it will be worse 
for you,’ now demanded the voice of 
Gordon. 

‘Never!’ cried Blodget, desperately, 
and placing his back against it as he 
spoke. 

‘Then we must use force,’ returned 
Gordon ; ‘ now, lads, your aid.’ 

In an instant the door was burst open, 
and Gordon, followed by three rough- 
looking men, entered the room. 

‘Seize him, my lads; and bear him 
hence I’ cried Gordon, and in a moment 
the men rushed upon Blodget, who made 
a desperate resistance, but was quickly 
overpowered, and was conveyed, strug- 
gling, swearing, and foaming at the 
mouth, from the room, and being drag- 
ged to one of the dark vaults under- 
ground, was, by the orders of Gordon, 
locked in, and left to his own reflections, 
the nature of which may be readily con- 
jectured, but cannot be properly described. 

Alice, immediately on being thrust 
out of the room by Blodget, had hasten- 
ed below, where, ascertaining that Gor- 
don was from home, although it was 
very reluctantly that the old woman fur- 
nished her with the information, she 
made the best of her way to the cabaret, 
where she fortunately found him, in 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


187 


company with the men before mentioned, 
and having informed him of the perilous 
situation of our heroine, he left the place, 
and, as has been shown, arrived just at 
the critical juncture, to save her from 
destruction. 

Blodget had no sooner been forced 
away from the room, than our heroine, 
overpowered by her feelings, and the unu- 
sual excitement she had undergone, faint- 
ed, and Alice Hewlet was once more left 
alone with her, and immediately set 
about the means of restoring her sensi- 
bility. 

It would be impossible to pourtray 
correctly the disappointment and ungo- 
vernable rage of Blodget, when he found 
himself not only foiled in his diabolical 
attempt, but made a prisoner in that 
gloomy vault. He raved ; he stormed ; 
he cursed and swore, and breathed the 
most fearful maledictions against Alice, 
Gordon, and Jenkins. Then he made 
the place re-echo again with his cries to 
be released, but the hollow reverbera- 
tions of that subterranean place, were 
the only answers he received, and he 
traversed the limited space in which he 
was confined, in a state bordering upon 
madness. He now at once saw that he 
was caught, trepanned, defeated, and all 
his well laid schemes rendered abortive, 
and himself left entirely at the mercy of 
Jenkins and his associates, and when ha 
recollected the threats which the former 
had held out to him, if he should make 
any attempt against the peace of Inez, 
during his absence, he felt that he had 
every reason to apprehend the most ter- 
rible consequences through his mad im- 
petuosity. All the horrors of an igno- 
minous death rushed upon his mind, and 
his anguish was so great, that he com- 
pletely sunk under it. He crouched 


I down in one corner of his cell, and be- 
came the image of despair. It appeared 
as though his career of guilt was fast 
drawing to a close, and, that fate had 
destined, that every attempt he should 
in future make should be frustrated. 

In this state he remained for more 
than two hours, without any one ap- 
pearing to interrupt him, when he heard 
some one unbolting the door of his cell, 
and immediately afterwards it was thrown 
back on its hinges, and Gordon, accom- 
panied by one of the men who had been 
his companions in the seizure, entered. 

He brought with him a stone pitcher, 
containing water and a loaf, which he 
placed on the ground, and then eyed 
Blodget with a look of the most malig- 
nant exultation. 

Blodget sprang to his feet; fury gleam- 
ing in his eyes, and advancing towards 
Gordon, he cried, in a hoarse voice : — 

‘Dastard! — why am I thus seized and 
made a prisoner in this dismal place V 

‘Recollect your recent conduct,’ said 
Gordon coolly, ‘ and you are answered.’ 

‘ And what authority has either he or 
you for detaining me V demanded Blod- 
get. 

‘ Upon that point I dare say you will 
be satisfied at a future time,’ returned 
Gordon, in the same deliberate and care- 
less tones. 

‘ But you will not dare detain me V 

‘ That has to be proved.’ 

‘ Villain I you will have to answer 
dearly for this,’ said Blodget. 

‘ Previous to which,’ retorted Gordon, 
ironically, ‘ you will probably be called 
to a slight account for the abduction and 
unlawful detention of the lady, also for a 
certain crime since, and ’ 

‘ Confusion !’ interrupted Blodget ; — 
am I then placed in the power of every 


188 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


wretcE ? Ob, Jenkins ! Jenkins ! for this, 
my heaviest malediction light upon your 
head.’ 

‘ Trusting that you may soon feel at 
home in your new apartment,’ said Gor- 
don, with a most provoking grin, ‘ I will 
now leave you to the enjoyment of it. 
Come on.’ 

And thus saying, before Blodget could 
give utterance to another syllable, al- 
though bis looks evinced the torturing 
feelings of chagrin, disappointment, and 
resentment he was undergoing, Gordon 
and his companion quitted the cell, and 
slammed and bolted the door after them, 
leaving Blodget involved in utter dark- 
ness, for they had not supplied him with 
a lamp. 

Blodget threw himself on the hard 
ground, and he groaned aloud with the 
agony of his feelings, but his present suf- 
ering was nothing compared with the 
horrors of anticipation, and he dreaded 
the return of Jenkins, fearing that the 
terrible result would be that which he 
promised him. 

Three days and nights passed away in 
this manner, and Blodget was still kept 
a prisoner in the subterranean vault, and 
was daily visited by Gordon, who came 
to bring him his scanty allowance of pro- 
visions, and to taunt him with his de- 
graded and altered situation. The un- 
happy wretch was at length completely 
subdued in spirit, and was incapable of 
answering the ruffian, and he was at last 
so humbled as to entreat Gordon’s mercy, 
and to pray that he would release him 
from his present place of confinement 
to one less dismal. This request, how- 
ever, Gordon only treated with scorn and 
derision ; so true it is that none feel 
greater pleasure than the guilty in tor- 
turing one another. Although Blodget 


had never given the ruffian the least 
cause for offence, but, on the contrary, 
according to his own admission, had lib- 
erally rewarded him for the nefarious ao 
tions in which he had employed him, he 
now felt the most savage delight in add- 
ing to his misery as much as possible ; 
and the more he saw him suffer, and the 
more humbled he was, the greater did 
he exult. He had no doubt he should 
receive great praise, and something far 
more substantial from Jenkins for the 
manner in which he had acted, and he 
anticipated his return with much impa- 
tience. He was not made thoroughly 
acquainted with Jenkins’ intention as re- 
garded Inez, but he had not the least 
doubt it was to restore her to her friends, 
and he imagined he would ensure from 
them a rich reward, in which he also 
expected to become a sharer to no small 
amount for the services he had rendered. 
How far his expectations ^ were realized, 
will be seen anon. 

When our heroine had quite recovered 
from the shock which she received from 
the behavior of the villain Blodget, she 
returned her most heartfelt thanks to the 
Almighty for her preservation, and for 
the fortitude with which she had been 
imbued to resist him. She then expres- 
sed her warmest acknowledgments to 
Alice, to whose presence of mind in 
hastening for the aid of Gordon, she 
might, in a great measure, attribute her 
preservation. The conduct of Gordon, 
who, there could not be the least doubt, 
acted entirely by the orders of Jenkins, 
left ker no longer any room to doubt but 
that the latter was really the friend and 
protector he had told her was, and now 
that Blodget was thrust into confinement, 
from which they were assured he would 
not be released until the return of the 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


189 


captain, our heroine felt that she was 
safe. 

What ready means guilt often un- 
thinkingly takes to defeat its own de- 
signs:’ observed Alice ; ‘Blodget thrust- 
ing me out of the room, was the very 
cause of bringing about his own confu- 
sion, and frustrating his evil intentions ; 
for, had he placed me in another room, 
and confined me therein, he might easily 
have silenced the old woman, had she 
been inclined to oppose him, and thus he 
would have been almost certain to have 
obtained his object.’ 

•Oh, no,’ returned Inez, ‘my mind 
was made up ; never did I feel more de- 
termined, and he perceived it ; I would 
have plunged the knife to my heart, soon- 
er than he would have triumphed in his 
disgusting and diabolical purpose !’ 

‘ Oh, Miss,’ said Alice, ‘ the idea of 
that makes me shudder with horror ! 
Heaven be praised, that preserved you 
from such a dreadful and untimely end. 
But the wretch will no doubt be amply 
punished for his crimes, and for all the 
sufierings that he has inflicted upon you.’ 

‘ And how think you that Jenkins will 
dispose of him V interrogated Inez. 

‘ Deliver him up to the Vigilance Com- 
mittee,’ replied Alice. 

‘How can he do so without getting 
himself into trouble ?’ 

‘ Ob, there is no doubt but that he will 
readily hit upon a plan,’ said Alice ; ‘ I 
dare say that he has already arranged 
that, without knowing anything of the 
late circumstance. Clear up. Miss, for 
depend upon it, your troubles are fast 
drawing to a close, and not many days 
will elapse ere you will be again restored 
to your friends.’ 

‘ Alas,’ ejaculated Inez, tears gushing 
to her eyes, ‘ perhaps I have no dear 


friends to receive me ! Oh, how my poor 
heart chills at the thought.’ 

‘ Pray, Miss,’ said Alice, ‘ do not en- 
courage fears which, after all, niay prove 
unfounded. Great, no doubt, as has 
been the sufierings of Monteagle and your 
father, I firmly believe that they are still 
living, or Jenkins and the others would 
have heard of it.’ 

‘ My unhappy lover may have been 
able to withstand the severity of his 
accumulated and unparalleled calamities,’ 
observed Inez ‘ but, my poor father; oh, 
well am I convinced that his mind must 
have now become a wreck, in which 
case, it would be a mercy if the Almighty 
should be pleased to take him to Him- 
self. Pcor grey-haired old man, fondest 
of parents, best of human beings, shall I 
ever again be enfolded to thy paternal 
bosom, with the conviction that thou art 
conscious it is thy poor persecuted daugh- 
ter thou dost embrace ? — Alas 1 I fear 
never I’ 

‘ Oh, yes, Miss, you will,’ ejaculated 
Alice, energetically, ‘ Heaven in its infin- 
ite mercy will not deny you such a bless- 
ing after the many afflictions you have 
so undeservedly undergone. Have you 
not every reason to place the firmest re- 
liance upon its goodness, after the man- 
ner in which you have ever been preserv- 
ed in the moment of the most imminent 
danger V 

‘Yes, my good girl,’ replied our hero- 
ine, drying her tears, ‘ indeed I have, and 
it is ungrateful in me thus to give way to 
despair. But my mind is so continually 
tormented, that I scarcely know what I 
am saying.’ 

‘ At any rate,’ observed her companion, 
‘ now that Blodget is made a prisoner 
you may rest yourself secure, and Jen- 
kins, I dare say, will not be long before 


190 


MYSTJ!.?JES and miseries 


he returns; when you will speedily be 
made acquainted with intentions, which, 
as I have all along predicted, depend up- 
on it, will be all in your favor.’ 

The ideas of Alice were too reasonable 
to be rejected by Inez, and she looked 
forward to the return of Jenkins with the 
greatest anxiety. 

A fortnight had now waned away, and 
still Jenkins and his companions did not 
return, and Gordon, who did not expect 
that they would be gone so long, was 
fearful lest some accident should have be- 
fallen them. He still kept the wretched 
Blodget confined in the same place, and 
ne now became the complete victim of 
despair. His form had wasted away, and 
his countenance betrayed the deep, the 
intense agony which perpetually tortured 
his mind. How dreary were the days 
and nights passed in that dark cell, where 
he had nothing to commune but his own 
dreadful thoughts, and wnere the horrors 
of his own guilty conscience constantly 
brought to his imagination the many 
crimes he had committed. Conjecture 
cannot form but a weak picture of the 
mental sufferings of that man of crime. 
Ob, who would be guilty, did they but 
think upon the horrors that must sooner 
of later overtake them ? — For the gratifi- 
cation of some moment of sensual pleas- 
ure ; for the transitory indulgence of 
some ambitious wish, the unhappy wretch 
falls into crime, to pay for it by years of 
mental suffering, and ignominious death, 
and an eternity of torment ! — Oh, how 
fearful the price, would but erring mor- 
tals pause and think 1 

It was on a stormy midnight, jpvhen 
nearly three weeks had elapsed since Jen- 
kins had left, when a party who were in 
company with Gordon in the little back 
room, smoking, were suddenly aroused 


by hearing a shrill whistle. The cigars 
were removed from their lips in an in- 
stant, and they jumped hastily to their 
feet. 

‘ Jenkins’s signal, by all that’s fortu- 
nate ;’ exclaimed Gordon, advancing to- 
wards the door, ‘ they have come back 
at last, and all safe, I hope !’ 

‘This has, indeed, been a long trip 
captain,’ said Gordon ‘ and I had began 
to fear that you were never going to re- 
turn.’ 

‘Better late than never,’ answered 
Jenkins ; ‘ but how is all at the house V 

‘ Quite safe, captain,’ replied Gordon, 
with a peculiar grin, ‘ the lady is in her 
own apartments with her companion, Al- 
ice, and that arrant scoundrel Blodget, 
confined in one of the vaults underneath, 
where he has been since two or three 
days after your departure.’ 

‘ Ah !’ exclaimed Jenkins, ‘ has he then 
dared to scorn the warning that I gave 
him 

Gordon briefly related what had taken 
place between Blodget and our heroine. 

‘ Why, the damned villain !’ cried Jen- 
kins, passionately ; ‘ after the strict in- 
junctions which I laid upon him, and 
knowing that he was placed entirely at 
my mercy. But he shall pay dearly for 
it ; his doom is sealed.’ 

‘ I did not know whether you would 
approve of the lodging I had given the 
fellow,’ answered Gordon. 

‘ You have acted perfectly right,’ said 
Jenkins ; ‘ and I commend you for what 
you have done. Blodget shall quickly 
have another berth, and his career he 
may reckon at an end. And is the lady 
quite well V 

Gordon answered in the aflSrmative. 

‘I am happy to hear that,’ said Jen- 
kins ; ‘ she shall not much longer remain 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


191 


in tlie position slie is now placed in. — 
Poor lady, I shall for ever regret having 
"been instrumental in any way towards 
her unhappiness; but I knew not who 
flhe was, or the villain Blodget should 
not have retained possession of her. 
However, his time of shame is fast ap- 
proaching, and bitterly will he have to 
pay for all.’ 

‘ It is, then, your intention to restore 
the lady to liberty V asked Gordon. 

‘ Certainly,’ answered Jenkins, * and to 
her friends.’ 

‘ But you will run a great risk in so 
doing, will you not V 

‘ No; leave me alone for that ; I have 
arranged everything in my own mind,’ 
said Jenkins. 

• But how do you propose to dispose 
of Blodget ?’ inquired Gordon. 

‘ I have not exactly made up my mind, 
although I did threaten him with death,’ 
answered Jenkins. ‘To-morrow night, 
or the next, I shall convey the scoundrel 
far away from hence.’ 

‘ You would not deprive him of life V 

‘ No,’ replied Jenkins, ‘ not by my own 
hands ; besides it would be a pity to de- 
prive the hangman of a job.’ 

Gordon did not return any answer to 
this, for when he recollected the crimes 
of which he had himself been guilty, he 
thought that it was not all unlikely that 
he should himself afford employment for 
that functionary, sooner or later. 

,In the morning early, the robber cap- 
tain was traversing his way along the 
vaulted passages, and at length stopped 
at the door of the vault in which Blod- 
get was confined. There he paused and 
listened, for he could not help feeling 
that he was only justly punished for the 
part he had played towards the unfortu- 
nate Inez and her friends. 


At length he withdrew the bolts, and 
entered the cell. The dim light which 
was emitted by the lamp which Jenkins 
carried, could but faintly penetrate the 
gloom of the miserable place, so that 
Blodget did not at first perceive who it 
was that had entered, and no doubt, did 
not think that it was any one else than 
Gordon ; and the robber stood contem- 
plating him for a minute or two in si- 
lence, but resentment was strongly por- 
trayed in his countenance. 

‘ So, villain,’ he at length said, ‘ you 
have dared to brave my threats, to dis- 
obey my injunctions, and have again of- 
fered to ’ 

He was interrupted by a loud excla- 
mation from Blodget, who, upon recog- 
nizing his voice, sprang forward, and in 
the most abject manner knelt at Jenkins’s 
feet, and looked up in his face with the 
most earnest supplication. 

‘ Oh, Blodget,’ he cried, in the most 
impressive tones ; ‘ spare me ; — pity me ; 
— pardon me ! — I will own my guilt ; — 
I will acknowledge I was wrong ; but let 
the agony I have for the last fortnight 
endured in this place satisfy you, and do 
not, oh, do not proceed to extremities.’ 

Jenkins fixed upon him a look of the 
utmost contempt, as he replied : 

‘ And have you, then, the effrontery to 
crave pardon, after setting all my injunc- 
tions at defiance ! I gave you sufficient 
warning of what the consequences would 
be, did you not obey me ; you have 
scorned it, and those consequences you 
must abide by.’ 

‘No, no ;’ groaned the poor terrified 
wretch, still remaining on his knees, and 
looking the very picture of death, with 
the excess of his fears ; ‘ you will not 
surely do as you say? — You will not 
deliver me up to justice ? — Consign me 


192 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


to an igncminious and violent death ! 
Pause ere you do so! — My death will 
avail you nothing. Suffer me therefore 
to live to repent, and I promise you that 
neither Inez or her friends shall receive 
any further annoyance from me 1’ 

‘ I will take especial care that they do 
not returned Jenkins with a sarcastic 
grin. 

‘ My life will at any time be in your 
hands,’ added the poor, trembling cow- 
ard ; ‘ should I again break my word, 
Jenkins, I beg of you, I supplicate to 
you, in the most humble manner do not 
doom me yet to death 1’ 

‘Despicable scoundrel!’ ejaculated Jen- 
kins ; so dead to the sufferings of others; 
and yet so fearful of suffering himself. 
Wretch ! you deserve to die the death 
of a dog, and you will do so.’ 

Blodget groaned and covered his face 
with his hands. 

‘ Prepare yourself to depart from here 
in my custody to-morrow night,’ said 
Jenkins, as he moved towards the door 
of the cell. 

‘ Whither, Jenkins, and for what pur- 
pose ? Oh, tell me ! tell me ! ’ intreated 
Blodget, his whole frame violently con- 
vulsed with the power of his emotions. 
Jenkins, looked at him for a moment in 
silence, and then replied, — 

‘ You will know soon ; at present I 
shall leave you to form your own con- 
jectures, and to ask your conscience what 
ought to be your destiny.’ 

‘Stay, Jenkins, I beseech you!’ cried 
the unfortunate prisoner, in delirious ac- 
cents; but Jenkins had immediately 
quitted the cell, and securing the door 
was quickly far out of hearing. 

‘Inquire whether Miss Inez will do me 
the favor to grant me an interview,’ said 
Jenkins, addressing himself to Gordon, 


soon after he had entered the parlor, af- 
ter quitted the place in which Blodget 
was confined. 

Gordon, without offering any observ- 
ation, hastened to do as he was bid, and 
quickly returned with an answer in the 
affirmative. Jenkins then hurried up 
stairs, and knocking at the door, was 
ushered into the presence of Inez. 

He paused at the door, and bowed to 
our heroine with an air of the utmost 
respect, and he was altogether lost in the 
admiration of Inez’s beauty. Her cheeks 
had become flushed immediately on her 
hearing the message from Jenkins, and 
her heart palpitated violently against her 
side with rekindled hopes. 

‘ Miss,’ at last observed Jenkins, in a 
respectful tone of voice ; ‘ I have no 
doubt suffered much in your opinion, 
from the part which I at first unfortu- 
nately enacted in the plot against you by 
your enemy, Blodget.’ 

‘ Our heroine attempted to reply, but 
she was too much confused to do so, and 
Jenkins continued, 

‘I am now,’ however, anxious to make 
all the reparation in my power, by re- 
storing you to liberty and your friends !’ 

Inez uttered an exclamation of mingled 
delight and gratitude, and instantly sunk 
at the feet of Jenkins, and while the 
tears gushed from her eyes, she sobbed : 

‘ Oh, thanks ! thanks ! kind sir, for 
this ^ 

Jenkins interrupted her, and gently 
raised her from his knees. 

‘ Nay, my dear lady,’ he said, ‘ I merit 
not your thanks ; for, probably, had it 
not been for a certain discovery I by ac- 
cident made, I might still have taken no 
interest in your fate.’ 

‘A discovery!’ repeated Inez, with a 
look of astonishment. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO, 


193 


Ay,’ answered the captain; ‘ that you 
are the daughter of one who once be- 
friended me.’ 

‘ Know you then my dear father V 

‘Lady,’ answered Jenkins, in peculiar 
accents, ‘ I have reason to know him, to 
be unceasing in my gratitude towards 
him.’ 

‘ Oh, say, does he still live V 

‘ He does 1’ 

‘ Heaven receive my thanks 1’ cried 
our heroine, fervently, clasping her 
hands, and raising her eyes. 

‘ Miss de Castro, I will at once inform 
you the nature of the kindness your fa- 
ther did me, and you will then see why 
from being the accomplice and abetter of 
Blodget, I have become his enemy and 
your friend. Some three years since, I 
crossed the plains from Missouri. By 
the time we had crossed the mountains 
our teams had given out — our provisions 
were exhausted — and many of our peo - 1 
pie dead. It was at this time that your 
father, with a party met, with' us, and 
not only aided us with mules and provi- 
sions, but remained several days attend- 
ing my children who were prostrated by 
fever. It was only during my last visit 
to the Mission that I met your father and 
learned that his name was de Castro, and 
that you were his child. I managed to 
have word conveyed to him that his 
daughter was safe, and would soon be re- 
stored to his arms. I have now hastened 
here to carry you back, and devise 
means to give Blodget up to Justice. 
This cannot be done so speedily or easily 
as I could wish, for the villain is master 
of too many secrets involving perhaps 
the lives of members of my band, forme 
to proceed rashly in the matter. Mean- 
while be cheerful, Alice will remain with 


you, and in a few days you will be with 
your father.’ 

Inez fervently thanked Jenkins, and 
throwing herself on her knees poured 
out her fervent thanks to that power that 
had shielded her from outrage worse than 
death. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The scene we are now about to de- 
scribe was in a room of a hotel ; the 
time, five o’clock in the morning— the per- 
sons present were Belcher Kay, Maretzo, 
and two or three other noisy and dissi- 
pated revellers, whose flush ed^counten- 
ances, blood-shot eyes, and other equally 
striking symptoms, showed plainly 
enough that they had been ‘ making a 
night of it.’ 

Kay and the Italian appeared to bo 
the most sober of the company, not that 
their potations had been less deep or fre- 
quent than their companions, but that 
constant practice had so inured them to 
the wine cup, that it was long ere they 
showed any ill-effects from it. 

They certainly were particularly noisy 
and merry, and their companions lent 
their aid to the conviviality, by knocking 
down everything the aforesaid said or 
did, in the most tumultuous manner. 

One individual, in the classic language 
of the drunkard, was ‘ quite done up,’ 
and was stretched at full length upon the 
floor, under one of tables, with his hat 
for a pillow, and a portion of the carpet 
for a coverlid ; and every now and then 
he added to the general tumult by a 
loud snore of the most hoggish descrip- 
tion. 

The proprietor of the hotel had seve- 


194 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


ral times requested the party to break up^ 
but as the said party threatened to break 
his head instead, if he interfered with 
them, he thought it was best to desist 
from his importunities, and after supply- 
ing them with enough wine for the night, 
he retired to his own chamber, and left 
them, very reluctantly, to the indulgence 
of their noisy revels. 

At the time we have thought proper 
to open this scene, it was, as we have be- 
fore stated, about five o’clock in the 
morning, and the landlord of the hotel 
had arisen, and his servants also, and the 
usual bustle in such places prevailed, but 
still the debauchees continued their riot- 
ous mirth, and it appeared as if they had 
fully made up their minds to make ano- 
ther day of it, at least. 

‘ The song, Kay, the song, the song ; 
we will have no excuses shouted Ma- 
retzo. 

‘ Ay, ay, the song, the song, we will 
have no excuses chorussed three or four 
voices, and the man under the table gave 
a loud snore. 

‘ Ob, the song, ah 1 well I don’t mind 
trying one, just to keep, up the convivi- 
ality ;’ said Kay, who was seated on ra- 
ther a high chair, with his legs negligent- 
ly deposited on one end of the table, and 
twiddling a fine-flavoured cigar in his 
finger and thumb. ‘ The song — ^let me 
see— -ah, what shall it be ? Ob, I have 
it — very good I think you will admit.’ 

And then without any further ceremo- 
ny, Kay, who had an excellent voice 
commenced singing. 

The demonstrations of applause that 
greeted this bacchanallian display, were 
of the most uproarious kind, and by the 
time the companions of Maretzo and 
Kay had given full scope to the exuber- 
ance of their delight and approbation, 


they were one and all * done up,’ and 
one by one dropped oflf to sleep, leaving 
the two above-named gentlemen to the 
uninterrupted enjoyment of their owa 
society. 

‘ Ha ! ha ! ha !’ laughed Maretzo ; 

‘ they are regularly floored, poor de- 
vils 1’ 

‘ Completely finished and done up, 
coincided Kay ; — ‘ ha ! ha ! ha !’ 

‘ They are not half fellows to be done 
up with one night’s carouse, poor devils 
ha ! ha ! ha !’ observed Maretzo. 

* Poor weak creatures to be knocked 
down with a dozen or two of wine ; ha ! 
ha ! ha 1’ again laughed Kay. 

‘ Not like you and I, Kay added 
Maretzo. 

* Not a bit of it.’ 

‘No comparison.’ 

‘ A loco-foce to the moon,’ 

‘Half a pint of beer to a pipe of 
wine.’ 

‘ They cannot stand anything I* 

‘ Positively nothing 1’ 

‘ They’re twaddlers I’ 

‘ Drivellers !’ 

‘Noodles!’ ^ 

‘ Boobies 1’ 

‘ Nincompoops !’ 

‘ Humbugs 1 ’ 

It may be as well to observe here that 
these compliments were bestowed upon 
the party at large, who had been liberal- 
ly carousing Maretzo and Kay, without 
expecting the latter to pay a cent of the 
reckoning, and consequently they may 
be considered fully entitled to the elegant 
epithets that were lavishly bestowed upon 
them. 

‘You and I are the fellows to do it, 
Maretzo,’ said Kay. 

* Positively the very fellows,” coincided 
his friend. 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


195 


* We are no skulkers while there is 
plenty of good wine before us.” added 
Kay. 

* Never think of such a thing.” 

‘ It would ruin our reputation, if we 
were known to do such a thing.’ 

‘ And that would be a most melancho- 
ly thing.’ 

‘ Positively awful 1’ 

* We will never let the enemy beat 
us.’ 

‘ No, d — n !’ returned Spangle ; — ‘ but 
down with it, down with it, and at it 
again.’ 

‘ At it again ! Hah ! ha ! ha !’ 

‘ We are wine proof !’ 

‘Full proof?’ 

* Above proof, by ^ 

‘ But talking about women,’ observed 
Kay, ‘ That Blodget was a devilish for- 
tunate fellow.’ 

‘ Cunning rogue !’ replied Maretzo ; 

‘ he managed his business famously, and 
has contrived admirably to elude the vigi- 
lance of Monteagle and the lady’s friends.’ 

‘They have not heard anything of 
them yet, I believe V 

‘ Nothing !’ 

‘ Poor Monteagle 1 Ha ! ha !’ 

* Ah ! poor fool !’ 

‘ I wonder what has become of Mont- 
eagle V 

‘ Oh, he is doubtless still making every 
inquiry after the lady.’ 

‘And it is my firm belief that Inez 
will never live to see her father, her lov- 
er^ or her friends again.’ 

‘ I am of the same opinion ; a sensi- 
tive, high-minded woman like her, will 
never be able to survive long the misery 
and degradation which Blodget has 
heaped upon her.’ 

‘ He positively must be a smart scoun- 
drel.’ 


‘ I never heard of one equal to him.* 

* Such a systematic way as he went to 
work to accomplish his villainy.* 

‘ The ingenious and complicated plot 
he devised to bring about the gratifica- 
tion of his wishes.’ 

‘ The artful manner in which he con- 
rived to make the simpleton, Jenkins, 
his dupe, too ; the ready tool to further 
his deep-la d stratagem.’ 

‘ He must have had his education in 
the school of art and vice, certainly.’ 

‘ Yes, and been a ready pupil, too.’ 

‘ But is it not strange that every strat- 
agem has failed to find the slightest clue 
to the place of retreat V 

‘ Wonderful !’ 

‘And then the attempt upon Mont- 
eagle’s life.’ 

‘ Doubtless by some ruflSan employed 
by him.’ 

‘ There cannot be a doubt of it.’ 

‘ To be sure. Revenge has incited him 
to it.’ 

‘ He is a dangerous fellow to offend.’ 

‘ A very devil.’ 

‘ At any rate, he does not fail to play 
the very devil with those who excite his 
enmity.’ 

‘ True.’ 

‘ But he must be defeated at last.’ 

‘ Certainly there is not much prospect 
of it at present.’ 

‘ Oh, no doubt he will be caught in 
some of his own snares by and bye.’ 

‘ But do you think he has ruined the 
girl?’ 

‘ He is villain enough for anything.’ 

‘ He must be a monster, indeed, if he 
could perpetrate such a crime as that. I 
must have another glass of wine. 

* Do you think that he who did not 
hesitate to attempt the life of the father, 


196 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


and the violation of the daughter, would 
shrink from any thing.’ 

‘ But, then, her youth — her innocence.’ 

‘ Psha !’ — he is a stranger to such feel- 
ings as they ought to inspire.’ 

‘ Why, to be sure, from his general 
conduct, we have an undoubted right to 
suppose that he is.’ 

* And yet I think that he has had 
some other motive for getting the girl in 
his power ; that he has found her neces- 
sary to advance his base schemes.’ 

There was a pause. 

‘ But that Blodget is really a most ter- 
rible fellow,’ said Kay. 

‘ Every stratagem, every scheme of 
rascality, I do believe, that that rascal of 
rascals is up to. 

‘ Positively every scheme,’ said Maret- 
zo,’ ‘ but this is a dry subject, and I must 
have another glass of wine.’ 

‘ I feel to want one myself, too,’ ob- 
served Kay, filling his glass from the de- 
canter : ‘ Well, here’s wishing that Blod- 
get may soon be here.’ 

‘ And Inez restored to her lover and 
friends,’ exclaimed Maretzo. 

‘ Quite safe.’ 

‘ Quite safe,’ repeated Kay. 

‘ And yet I am afraid there is not 
much chance of that.* 

‘Nor I.’ 

‘Leave that consummate scoundrel, 
Blodget, alone for that.’ 

‘Ay, ay.’ 

‘He would not fail to enforce his 
wishes.’ 

' To be sure he would not.’ 

‘And what resistance could she make V 

‘ None at all.’ 

‘ She is so completely in his power.’ 

‘ Completely.’ 

‘Without a friend at hand to fly to her 
rescue.’ 


‘Not a friend ; and besides no one 
knows, or can form the least conjecture 
whither he has taken her.’ 

‘ Not the least shadow of an idea, ’said 
Kay. 

‘ Any person would positively imagine 
that the fellow had some dealings with 
the devil,’ added Maretzo, ‘ and that she 
was conveyed away by magic.’ 

‘ That they certainly would, observed 
Kay. 

‘ I would not mind a hundred dollars 
to know where the fellow is.’ 

‘ Why, that would be rather awkward, 
I imagine, Maretzo,’ returned Kay, with 
an expressive grin. 

‘ Ha ! ha !’ laughed Maretzo, clapping 
his hand significantly to his pocket ; ‘ fi- 
nances rather queer, you think ? Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! I understand 1’ 

‘ Funds low.’ 

‘Ha! ha! ha 1’ 

‘It is not a very laughable matter 
though.’ 

‘ Very unpleasant.’ 

‘ To be staightened for a few hun- 
dreds” 

‘ Very disagreeable.’ 

‘And people have no faith in the 
word and honor of gentlemen, now-a- 
days. 

‘ Bnt we must do something to raise 
the wind.’ 

‘ That is very evident.’ 

‘ Quite certain.’ 

‘ Quite.’ 

‘ We must make good use of these 
boobies,’ said Kay.’ 

‘ To be sure. Leave us alone for that,’ 
replied Maretzo. 

‘ Oh, yes, I am certain of that.’ 

‘ They are very easy.’ 

‘ Poor devils.’ 

‘ Fit sport for us.’ 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


197 


‘Just the sort of game we like to 
hunt,’ returned Maretzo. 

‘ They have got a few thousands, which 
they seem bent upon wasting.’ 

‘ And we might as well reap the bene- 
fit as any other persons.’ 

‘ To be sure.’ 

‘ And we will too.’ 

‘ Oh, there is not the least doubt of 
that ; ha ! ha ! ha !’ 

‘By the by, we ought not to feel much 
obliged to Blodget for that affair ’ 

‘ No, that was a d d bore.’ 

‘ Remarkably unpleasant.’ 

‘ A few hundreds out of our way.’ 

‘ Yes: 

‘ We have mingled in some strange 
scenes together.’ 

‘ You may say that.’ 

‘ We have been in luck together.’ 

‘ In debt together.’ 

‘ In prison together.’ 

* Damme I we have shared all the 
smiles and frowns of fortune, and may 
we soon be on more friendly terms with 
her than ever.’ 

‘ Bravo 1’ 

The two friends quaffed off glass after 
glass, with as much gusto as if they had 
only just commenced a night’s carouse ; 
and then each crossing their legs in an 
indolent and careless manner, remained 
silent for a short time. The sleepers were 
snoring in concert, and did not seem 
likely to awake for some time, but to mo- 
nopolize the coffee-room for a chamber, 
for that day at least. 

After the lapse of a short interval, 
Maretzo looked up with an expression of 
countenance, half solemn, and half hu- 
morous, and, addressing himself to Kay, 
say ; 

‘ Kay, my boy !’ 

‘Well, my dear fellow,’ said Kay. 


‘I havG'been thinking, Kay.’ 

‘And what have you been thinking V 
interrogated his dissipated companion. 

‘ Why, that we have been a pair of 
d — d scoundrels !’ 

‘ Ha ! ha ! ha ! what a discovery ! — 
why, I have known and felt that long 
ago, Maretzo,’ returned Kay. 

‘ We have taken that which did not 
belong to us?’ added Maretzo, ‘ and bor- ' 
rowed that which we never repaid.’ 

‘ And never meant to repay ;’ observed 
Kay, with a laugh. 

‘ We have diddled our tailor ; broken 
the fortunes, and the hearts of innumer- 
able bootmakers, hatters, frizzeurs, laun- 
dresses, and other creditors.’ 

‘Very true,’ remarked Kay, ‘and we 
are likely enough to break the hearts of 
a great many more, if they are silly 
enough to trust us.’ 

‘ Ah !’ ejaculated Maretzo, and he fetch- 
ed a very deep sigh, reflectively. 

‘ Ah 1’ mimicked Kay; ‘ why, confound 
me, if you are not getting melancholy.’ 

‘ I am becoming penitent,’ replied Mar- 
etzo, in a tone still half serious, ‘ I am 
becoming penitent, Kay,’ 

‘ Penitent !’ 

‘ Yes, downright compunctious.’ 

‘Halhalhal’ 

‘ Don’t laugh, I feel a touch of the se- 
rious,’ remarked Maretzo, ‘ I think it is 
high time that we began to think about 
a reformation, Kay.’ 

‘ Well, positively.’ 

‘ Ah ! it may be well, positively,’ re- 
peated Maretzo, ‘ and, positively, I wish 
it to be well.’ 

‘ And what is your plan of reforma- 
tion ?’ inquired Kay. 

‘ Why, matrimony.’ 

‘ Matrimony?’ 

‘ Ay, sober wedlock,’ answered Maret- 


198 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


zo, ‘ it would be ad visible for us to do the 
steady and the amiable for some time, 
until we can meet with a favorable match; 
a handsome sum in the shape of a wed- 
ding dowry, and a handsome wife, and 
then we may settle down into two worthy 
gentlemen, very patterns of domesticated 
virtue.’ 

* Not a bad plan,’ said Kay, smiling, 

* but it is almost too soon to think about 
that, yet.’ 

‘ Not at all.’ 

* That is only your opinion,’ 

‘ And I have no doubt, as we have 
hitherto generally agreed, that it will be 
your opinion also.’ 

* I cannot make up my mind to be 
shackled jiist yet, my dear fellow,’ replied 

Kay. 

‘Nonsense, you may let the opportu- 
nity go by, and then you would repent 
it, take my word for it.’ 

* Probably, I might,’ said Kay, ‘ but I 
shall e’en trust fortune a little while 
longer.’ 

‘ But fortune will not trust you — we 
owe her too large an account already,’ 
obseryed Maretzo. 

* But I am determined to jilt the jade 
still further, yet.’ 

* Mind you do not deceive yourself.’ 

* Leave me alone for that.’ 

‘ After all, if a pretty girl, with a hand- 
some portion is thrown in your way, I do | 
not fear but that I shall be able to make 
you a convert.’ 

‘ Web, we’ll leave that till the oppor- 
tunity olFeis itself.’ 

* Be it so.’ 

‘ But you are really serious V 

* Cursed serious.’ 

Ha, ha, ha! we must have another 
glass of wine after that,’ laughed Kay, 

* here’s fortune and matrimony.’ 


• Fortune and matrimony,’ responded 
Maretzo, raising the glass to his lips; and 
then another pause of a few minutes took 
place. 

‘ I have been thinking, Kay,’ at length 
Maretzo broke silence, ‘ that, after all, 
the whereabouts of Blodget, and Inez 
may not be so difficult for Monteagle to 
trace out as hitherto it has proved.’ 

At this, the door opened, and the 
landlord entered, saying that a man 
wished to speak to Kay. 

‘Tell him to come in. Who the deuce 
can it be V said Kay. 

‘ Doubtless one of our fellows,’ said 
Maretzo. 

The man now entered. 

‘ Well,’ said Kay. ‘ I’m the person 
you asked for.’ 

The visitor went to the door, and turn- 
ed the key. He then said, in a low 
tone, ‘Is your companion to be trusted ?’ 

‘ True as steel,’ said Kay. 

‘ Blodget is in trouble and needs your 
assistance. He is at Gordon’s house. — 
Jenkins has informed on him, and he 
can’t leave the house without almost cer- 
tain death. He wishes you and a per- 
son he called Maretzo, to be there to- 
night. With your aid he can get off, 
carrying the lady with him. He says 
he won’t mind a couple of thousand, if 
you can get him out of this scrape* 

[ ‘ New, my good fellow, how do we 

know that this isn’t all gas. A trap, 
may be V said Kay. 

‘ He told me to tell you, if you doubt- 
ed me, to remember the old man in the 
old houseP 

Kay started, but quickly recovering 
himself said, ‘ All right, we’ll be on 
hand.’ 

The man left the house, and mounting 
his horse rode to the Mission. At a 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


199 


Bmall house near the church he found 
Joaquin, by whom he was conducted to 
Jenkins, who was in company with 
Monteagle and some Californians, friends 
of In-ez and her family. 

The party speedily set off across the 
country towards the house where Inez 
was confined. But speedy as they were, 
they found they had been anticipated by 
Kay and Maretzo, who had set off to 
aid Blodget the instant the man had 
left. On arriving at the house they 
knocked boldly at the door. Gordon 
opened it, but upon seeing who the visi- 
tors were he attempted -to slam it in 
their faces, but ere he succeeded a long 
Spanish knife was driven to his heart by 
Maretzo, and the wretch fell a bleeding 
corpse on the floor. Blodget was soon 
released. 

‘ Bear a-hand,’ cried Kay, ‘We must 

be out of this d d quick. If Jenkins 

or any of his gang arrive, we’re gone 
chickens.’ 

‘ One moment,’ cried Blodget. ‘ I’ll 

have this d d stubborn Spanish b — h 

if I have to carry her corpse across my 
saddle !’ as he spoke he sprang up stairs. 

Alice had overheard what passed for 
she was sitting by Inez’s bed-side watch- 
ing her slumbers. 

The brave girl instantly determined to 
save Inez, even at peril of her own life. 

She extinguished the light, and throw- 
ing the veil of Inez over her head, and 
her mantle over her shoulders, she stood 
with beating heart, as she heard the vil- 
lain Blodget’s steps upon the stairs. 

‘ Inez !’ cried the ruflSan, as he opened 
the door of the chamber. 

‘ Who calls me,’ said Alice, imitating 
the voice of Inez. 

The ruffian made no reply, but seizing 


her shrinking form in his arms, he bore 
her to the front of the ranch, where Kay 
and Maretzo stood ready to mount, hold- 
ing a spare horse that they had brought 
to facilitate Blodget’s escape. The ruf- 
fian sprang to his horse’s back, dragging 
Alice up before, and dashing the rowels 
into his horse’s flanks, flew off at full 
speed, followed by Kay and Maretzo. 

They had not been gone many mo- 
ments, ere Jenkins, Monteagle, and their 
friends arrived. The bloody body of 
Gordon, which first arrested their atten- 
tion at the threshold, filled them with 
dreadful forebodings. 

Lights were procured, and Monteagle 
sought the chamber in which he was 
told he would find Inez. He burst in- 
to the room. A lady lay on the bed. 

‘ Inez !’ he shouted. 

The lady turned her head, and his 
eyes fell upon her countenance ! 

‘ Gracious Heaven!’ he almost shriek- 
ed ; ‘is this some beauteous vision got 
up to torture me to madness ? Inez 1 — 
My Inez!’ 

A wild shriek answered him ! — It was 
no delusion ! He sprang forward with 
delirious speed, just time enough to clasp 
the fainting form of his long-lost betroth- 
ed in his arms ! 

How shall our weak pen essay the 
task to describe the scene which followed 
this strange, this unexpected meeting ? 

Insensible, Inez was conveyed to an 
apartment in the cabaret, whither Mont- 
eagle followed, and could not be persuad- 
ed to leave her sight for an instant. 

Again and again he enfolded her in 
his arms ; pressed warm kisses on her 
lips, her cheeks, her temples, and laugh- 
ed and wept like a child, by turns!-— 
Then he threw himself upon his knees ♦ 


200 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


clasps his hands vehemently together, 
and poured forth an eloquent prayer to 
the most High ! 

Joaquin began to entertain a fear that 
the sudden surprise, and so powerful a 
shock as it must be to his feelings, would 
have a fatal effect upon his senses ; and 
he did all that he possibly could to 
calm his emotions. 

His efforts were, however, for some 
time unavailing, but at length he be- 
came more tranquillized, and resigning 
Inez to the care of the persons who had 
been called in to attend her, he sank in- 
to a chair, and covering his face with 
his hands, gave full vent to the emotions 
that overflowed his heart, in a copious 
flood of tears. 

Joaquin in this did not attempt to in- 
terrupt him, for he well knew what a re- 
lief it would be to him, and he turned 
his eyes from Monteagle to watch the 
progress which was being made towards 
the recovery of Inez. 

His joy was scarcely less than that of 
Monteagle, alhough it did not exhibit it- 
self in so violent a manner, and his heart 
teemed with gratitude to the Almighty, 
who had brought about their restoration 
to each other in so miraculous a manner. 

It was not long before Inez was re- 
stored to animation ; and, looking eager- 
ly around her, she exclaimed : — 

‘ Where is he ? — Was it a dream ? — 
Oh, where is Monteagle V 

* He is here, my love, my long lost 
one ! — My only hope !’ cried Monteagle, 
and again they 'were enfolded to each 
other’s hearts, while further utterance 
was denied them by the power of their 
emotions ! 

We must hastily draw a veil over that 
scene which the imagination of our read- 
ers can depicture far better than any 


language of ours, however powerful, we 
could describe it ! 

Those moments were a foretaste of 
Heaven, succeeding the torment of pur- 
gatory 1 Their extacy was so great, that 
they could scarcely believe the evidence 
of their senses. It was some time ere 
they could satisfy themselves that they 
spoke, they breathed, or that they 
were still inhabitants of this sublunary 
scene I 

But when, by the joint efforts of 
Joaquin and others, they became more 
tranquillized, the scene which followed 
was affecting in the extreme. They rest- 
ed for a few hours, as they were not suf- 
ficiently composed to resume their jour- 
ney to that home in which they had not 
together met for so long a period, and 
where they had never expected to meet 
again ; and their friends, after a short 
time, left them to themselves, to enter 
into that mutual explanation, they were 
each so anxious to obtain. 

With what feelings of horror, disgust, 
and indignation, did Monteagle listen to 
the recital of his love, but how did his 
heart overflow with gratitude, when he 
heard of the manner in which Inez had 
been enabled to resist the diabolical at- 
tempts and importunities of the villain 
Blodget ; and as he pressed her to his 
heart, he again poured forth his thanks 
to the Almighty for her preservation from 
such accumulated and fearful dangers. 

‘ The monster ! the fiend ! — for he 
cannot be anything human, although he 
bears the form of man,’ cried Monteagle, 
speaking of Blodget ; ‘ oh, how I regret 
that he has been suffered to escape my 
vengeance I’ 

‘But he will not that of Heaven, 
dearest,’ ejaculated Inez ; ‘ oh, most as- 
suredly that will ere long overtake him 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


201 


in its most terrible form, for the many, 
the almost unequalled crimes of which 
he has been guilty 1’ 

‘ True, my love,’ returned Monteagle, 
and his eyes sparkled with rapture as he 
gazed upon that dear countenance he 
had never expected to behold again; 
‘and oh, if ever atrocity deserved pun- 
ishment, dreadful will be his doom. To 
concoct so infernal a plot, by which he 
.tore you from my arms.’ 

Inez smiled beautifully through her 
tears, and throwing her fair arjjis around 
the neck of Monteagle, the kisses she so 
fervently pressed upon his lips, convinced 
him powerfully of her affection. 

‘ Say no more upon that painful sub- 
ject, my dearest,’ she ejaculated ; ‘ let it 
from this joyful moment be for ever bu- 
ried in oblivion.’ 

‘ It shall, it shall, my sweetest,’ replied 
Monteagle ; ‘ but oh, what a debt of gra- 
titude do I owe to your generous pre- 
server, Jenkins. Would that I could see 
him, that I might to himself express 
the power of my feelings. Nothing can 
ever sufficiently reward that man for 
the inestimable service he has rendered 
me.’ 

‘ I need not assure you,’ rejoined Inez, 
‘ that I most warmly concur in your feel- 
ings ; and I trust that at some future 
period, Jenkins may be able to visit us, 
and receive the demonstrations of our 
mutual gratitude, and, moreover, be per- 
suaded to quit the life he is at present 
leading.’ 

‘ Pity it is that he should, by some 
cursed fatality urging him on to crime, 
be driven from it,’ observed Monteagle ; 
‘ but I dare say that his offences have 
never been so heinous as to exclude him 
from all hope of earthly pardon.’ 

‘ No, I cannot believe that they have,’ 


replied Inez ; * but he is so much at- 
tached to his present wild life of freedom, 
and his reckless associates, that I am 
doubtful whether he will ever be induced 
to abandon them.’ 

‘My influence and exertions to induce 
him to do so, shall not be wanting,’ said 
Monteagle. ‘ Still I am sorry that he 
should have changed his first determin- 
ation, namely, to deliver the wretch 
Blodget into the hands of justice. While 
I know that vllain to living and still at 
large, my mind cannot be entirely at rest, 
for, however watchful and vigilant we 
may be, after what we have experienced 
from his villanous artifices, have we not 
reason to fear that he will devise some 
means of further annoying us, and grati- 
fying his demonical revenge?’ 

* Do not, I beg of you, my love,’ said 
our heroine, ‘ harass your mind by ap- 
prehensions.’ 

‘Heaven grant that your surmises 
may prove correct, Inez,’ observed Mont- 
eagle ; ‘ but I candidly own that I can- 
not entirely divest my mind of the fears 
which I have described; and should any- 
thing happen again to you, my love, all 
my manly fortitude would entirely for- 
sake me, and I should never be able to 
survive the shock 1’ 

‘ Pray, Monteagle,’ urged Inez, ‘ if you 
would not make me miserable, endeav- 
or, struggle to banish such gloomy im- 
aginings from your bosom, and trust to 
the goodness of Providence which has 
hitherto so mercifully preserved us, when 
the darkest snares of villainy sought to 
ruin and destroy us.’ 

‘ For your sake, my own love,’ replied 
Monteagle, once more affectionately and 
passionately kissing her cheek, ‘ I will 
endeavor to do so ; still you surely will 
not blame me for not placing too much 


202 


MYSTEPwIES AND MISERIES 


confidence in our security, which might 
prevent me from being watchful and 
wary to defeat any base plans that might 
be deivsed against our future peace?’ 

‘ Oh, no,’ in that you will only act 
with prudence and wisdom, although, I 
must repeat that I sincerely trust there 
will not be found to be any necessity for 
that precaution. But my poor father — 
what of him ?’ 

‘ He is well in body.’ 

‘ But how has he supported my ab- 
sence ?’ 

‘ Oh, he suffered terribly.’ 

‘ Did he give himself up to grief?’ 

* At first he did — he was as one struck 
to the earth by a sudden, violent blow. 
Joaquin, however, roused him from his 
despondency, by urging the absolute ne- 
cessity of pursuing the abductors. Thus 
urged, your father shook off his des- 
pondency, and appearing to forget his 
years, joined in the search for your ab- 


ductors with all the ardor of youth. In. 
deed it became almost necessary forci- 
bly to restrain him, lest he should be- 
come totally deranged.’ 

‘ Totally deranged ! Then his mind 
was affected by my loss ?’ 

‘Oh, my love,’ ejaculated Monteagle, 
‘ Would that heaven had spared me that 
painful task ; but pray be calm and bear 
the melancholy intelligence with forti- 
tude and resignation.’ 

‘ Speak on, speak on ; I’m prepared 
for the worst,’ ejaculated our heroine — 
‘ Tell me of my poor father.’ 

‘ When I left your home the physici- 
ans hoped he might recover, as at inter- 
vals reason seemed returning, when he 
would call for his daughter Inez, and 
then relapse into unconsciousness.’ 

‘ Oh, let us hasten to my poor dear 
father.’ 

They were soon in their saddles, and 
on road to the Mission. 


f 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The SeducerU Terrible ETid. 

A FEW nights after Blodget’s escape 
found him walking the streets of San 
Francisco, but disguised as he thought 
too effectually to be recognised by any 
eye, however sharp. 

There was a. cloud upon Blodget’s 
brow as he emerged from the court 
into the semi-obscurity of Montgomery 
street, and his mind was evidently ill at 
ease. He tried to hum a fashionable 
opera air when he had walked a little 
distance^ but there seemed something 
in his throat which choked him, and 
the sounds died upon his lips. Then 
he quickened his pace, when a young 
female emerged from a street which he 
was passing, and laid her hand upon 
his arm. He turned his head, and be- 
held Carlotta. 

She was thinner than when he had 
seen her last, and looked as if she had 
recently been ill; but her dark eyes 
were as lustrous as then, and there was 
the same gloss upon her raven hair. 
At the moment that she emerged from 
the shade of the court, and laid her hand 
upon his, there was a strange and al- 
most indescribable expression upon her 
dark countenance, but it passed away 
as quickly as a flight of birds over a 
stream, and when Blodget’s eyes met 
hers, they read nothing therein but 
pleasure at meeting him again. 

‘Ah, my little wild rose of the is- 
lands I’ said he, ‘what are you doing at 
this hour of the night, when all such 


203 

pretty wild birds should be in their 
nests.’ 

‘Well, I can’t say I was looking for 
you,’ returned Carlotta, ‘ but I am glad 
that I have met you, nevertheless. But 
I should ask you where you have been 
wandering, you naughty man V 

‘ Oh, I have been to the theatre, and 
then walked this way with a friend/ 
returned Blodget. ‘ But where are you 
staying — can you take me home with 
you V 

‘ Fie !’ said Carlotta, playfully. 

‘ I really cannot part with you, my 
chamber,’ said Blodget. ‘ If you cannot 
take me to your quarters, wherever they 
may be, you must come somewhere 
with me.’ 

‘ You must not think of going where 
my people are,’ observed the Chilian 
girl, ‘ remember how near the detection 
of our amour was costing our lives.’ 

‘Then come with me, my beauty, 
said Blodget. ‘There is a house not 
far from here which will suit out pur- 
pose, and I shall not part with you until 
day-light.’ 

‘ Then I go with you, Blodget,’ said 
Carlotta. ‘ Promise me that you will 
not seek to detain me more than an 
hour, and I will not refuse you the hap- 
piness you covet/ 

Blodget promised, and the Chilian 
girl accompanied him to an accommoda- 
tion-house in the neighborhood, where 
they were conducted to a neatly furnish- 
ed bed-chamber on the first floor. 

‘ We shall have time to drink a bottle 
of champagne in the hour that you have 
promised to remain with nie,’ observed 
Blodget, and he gave the girl, who had 
preceded them with a Eight, some sil- 
ver to procure it. 


204 


MYSTERIES AKD MISERIES 


They sat down, and Blodget threw i 
his arm round the waist of his dark- 
eyed companion, and drawing her to- 
wards him, impressed a kiss upon her 
lips. She smiled upon him, but her 
lips did not give back the kiss, and 
there was a glitter in her night dark 
eyes at the moment which was not the 
radiance which springs from happiness 
or love. Blodget, however, failed to de- ' 
tect anything unusual or peculiar in the 
expression of that glance. The wine 
was brought, and placed upon a small 
round table convenient to Blodgetts 
hand, and he filled the glasses, handing 
one to Carlotta and taking one himself. 

'The sparkling juice will bring back 
to your dark cheeks a glow that seems 
wanting there.’ said he, as he sat down 
the glasses and immediately refilled 
them. 

‘ Come, drink,’ he cried. 

‘ It will be the last time we’ll drink 
together.’ 

'Why what the deuce makes you 
think so V said Blodget. 

‘ I don’t know,’ replied the girl, 

^ but I have said it, and you’ll see if it 
don’t come to pass.’ 

‘ D-d nonsense,’ cried Blodget, laugh- 
ing, and then he drew his companion on 
his knee, and kissed her repeatedly and 
eagerly. 

Carlotta was silent, but she reclined 
her dark cheek against her seducer’s, 
and quietly and adroitly drew from her 
pocket a little phial containing some 
liquid. Concealing the phial in her 
hand, she then threw her arm over 
Blodget’s shoulder, and noiselessly draw- 
ing the tiny cork, poured the contents 
of the phial into his glass. 

‘Another glass of champagne, my 
glow-worm,’ said Blodget, ‘ and the soft 


1 delights of love, the thrilling joys of 
warm and impassioned nature are ours.’ 

Carlotta removed her arm xrom his 
shoulder as he turned slightly to reach 
his wine, and while she kept her eyes 
upon the glasses to observe that he gave 
her the one that she had drank from be- 
fore, she returned the empty phial to 
hei pocket. 

‘ I suppose nothing unpleasant came 
of our dalliance ?’ said Blodget, in a 
half interrogative tone, as he handed 
the girl her glass. 

‘Why do you suppose so? Ought 
you not rather to suppose just the re- 
verse ? Was not something unpleasant 
naturally to be expected ?’ 

‘Well, perhaps I might have sup- 
posed so,’ returned Blodget, deprecat- 
ingly, and a little disconcerted by the 
girl’s reply. 

There was a moment’s pause, and 
both sat with their glasses in their hands, 
Blodget’s eyes fixed upon the floor, the 
girl surveying the countenance of her 
seducer, as if she were trying to read his 
thoughts. 

‘Well, what was it?’ Blodget at 
length inquired. 

‘ A boy,’ returned Carlotta. ‘ It died, 
and I was glad of it, for if it had lived 
it might have been as faithless as his 
father.’ 

‘Do you want to quarrel ?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ For heaven’s sake cease,’ exclaimed 
Blodget, suddenly raising the wineglass 
to his lips, and emptying it at a draught 

Carlotta drank her wine quickly as 
he ^poke, and rose from his knee, where 
she had contrived to sit while upbraid- 
ing him with his inconstancy and du- 
plicity. Her dark eyes were fixed upon 
his countenance, which changed the mo- 


OF SAN FKANCISCO. 


205 


ment he had swallowed the wine, his 
lips becoming white, and the expression 
of his features becoming ghastly and 
cadaverous. 

‘You are a dead man and I am av- 
enged !’ exclaimed the girl in a hissing 
whisper ; and then she glided towards* 
the door, and turned the key in the 
lock. 

A faint groan which seemed to strug- 
gle feebly and faintly upwards, was the 
only sign of vitality which Blodget gave, 
and then his head fell upon his breast 
and his arms fell powerless at his side. 

Quickly and silently Carlotta drew the 
sheets from the bed, knotted them to- 
gether, and then fastened one end se- 


curely to the bedpost nearest the win- 
dow ; this done, she noiselessly raised 
the sash, and looked out. The night 
was dark and foggy, but she could see 
that there was a small yard below, with 
a door in the wall, which opened into 
a court at the rear of the house. Drop- ' 
ping one end of the sheets from the win- 
dow, she immediately got out upon the 
sill, and grasping the sheet firmly with 
both hands, descended in safety into the 
yard. She could hear laughter and the 
tinkling of glasses in the back parlor, 
but the shutters were closed, and noise- 
lessly unbolting the door in the yard 
fence, she hurried swiftly out, and in 
a few minutes was far away. 


206 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES 


CHAPTER XX. 

The Return to the Mission, 

Let us now rejoin Inez and Monteagle 
whom we left on their road to the Mis- 
sion. 

What powerful sensations of unspeak- 
able delight rushed through the veins of 
Inez, and monopolized every feeling of 
her heart, when those scenes which she 
had never expected to behold again, 
once more burst upon her vision. The 
tumult of rapturous and conflicting ideas 
that darted to her brain, were almost 
overwhelming, and, although her tongue 
was eager to give expression to her sen- 
timents, the strength of her emotions 
would not permit her to give utterance 
to a single syllable. She looked in the 
countenance of her lover with an expres- 
sion of the most unbounded aflfection 
and delight, and she fully perceived that 
he reciprocated her feelings. Tears fllled 
his eyes, and taking her hand he pressed 
it to his lips with eloquent silence. 

Not the slightest change appeared to 
have taken place in everything upon 
which the eyes of our heroine rested, 
since last she had gazed upon those well 
known scenes. The bright beams of a 
silvery moon were shining serenely upon 
every thing around, and a melancholy 
silence, so consonant with her own state 
of mind, prevailed. But, alas, she re- 
flected, what a change had taken place 
in the home of her childhood ! That 
home which had once abounded in every 
happiness that the human mind could 
wish for, was now the abode of sorrow ; 
that fond parent, whose every joy and 
hope were centered in her, was a maniajs 


and would be insensible to the felicity of 
her restoration to his arms. 

This last thought was too afflicting for 
endurance, and overcome by her emotion 
she leant her head upon the bosom of 
Monteagle, and burst into an hysterical 
flood of tears. 

In vain did Monteagle endeavor to 
tranquilize her feelings, he felt how pow- 
erful was the cause she had for sorrow, 
and the anguish he endured was scarcely 
less than her. own. 

Joaquin exerted himself to the utmost 
to calm the feelings of them both, and 
he at length succeeded. 

Monteagle, we should have mentioned 
before, had taken the precaution to send 
forward a person to the Mission, with a 
letter, making them briefly acquainted 
with the fortunate meeting which had 
taken place between him and our hero- 
ine, and of their coming, so that the sur- 
prise might not be too sudden for them; 
and they were, therefore, fully aware that 
they would exert themselves to the ut- 
most to meet ‘the unexpected pleasure 
which awaited them ; the more espe- 
cially as the precarious and lamentable 
situation of Senor de Castro rendered the 
greatest care necessary. 

At length the elegant, but unostenta- 
tious, mansion, burst upon their vision, 
and Providence imbued the mind of Inez 
with a calm feeling of joy, which she 
had never experienced before. Every- 
thing seemed to dance before her eyes to 
welcome her return to that once happy 
home, and the horses appeared to move 
with the most tedious slowness, as they 
cantered along the road which led to the 
garden gates. 

They reached those gates; they were 
already open, and standing to receive 


OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


207 


them were beings endeared to them by 
every affectionate and grateful feeling. 

Let not the too presumptuous pen at- 
tempt to describe the scene which fol- 
lowed, language is by far too weak to 
convey any idea of it. Tears, sobs, and 
broken sentences of unbounded transport, 
burst from the over-charged bosoms of 
each individual; and then Inez felt her- 
self leu along the avenue which conduct- 
ed to the hall. 

Although her eyes were dimmed by 
tears, and her thoughts were so fully oc- 
cupied, our heroine could yet behold sev- 
eral of the old domestics standing in the 
path, who, as she passed, raised their 
hands and eyes towards Heaven, and gave 
utterance to their simple, but forcible, 
exclamations of gratitude to the -Most 
High for the restoration of their ‘dear 
young lady’ to her home and friends. 

Another moment and Inez found her- 
self in the well known parlor, endeared 
to her by so many fond remembrances 
and associations ; and sinking on her 
knees,, she clasped her hands fervently 
towards Heaven, and gave full vent to 
the expression of her ardent and sponta- 
neous ejaculations of thanksgiving to the 
Almighty disposer of all events for her 
deliverance. 

No one offered to interrupt her, they 
were also too much occupied with the 
feelings of astonishment and unspeaka- 
ble delight that filled their bosoms. But 
at length, Inez having ended her solemn 
prayer, suddenly arose from her knees, 
and looking eagerly around the room, 
she said : 

‘ But where is he ? He is not here ! 
Where is the poor old ^an — that he is 
not present to snatch his unfortunate 
daughter once more to his heart, and 
weep his tears of joy upon her bosom ! 


My father — my poor, dear father ; where 
is he V 

‘ My dear Inez,’ replied the Padre ; ‘ I 
can fully appreciate the anxiety of your 
feelings ; but pray endeavor to restrain 
them. Your father has retired to his 
chamber and sleeps — do not disturb him 
lest' — ’ 

‘ And think you,’ interrupted our hero- 
ine, with the most violent emotion de- 
picted in her countenance ; think you 
that I can rest calmly one moment with- 
out beholding that unfortunate, that doat- 
ing parent from whom I have been so 
long and so cruelly separated ? No — ^iio 
— no — I will go to him ; not an in- 
stant ’ 

Quckly up the stairs which led to the 
well known chamber of her father, our 
heroine bounded, but when she arrived 
at the door, she paused ; a death-like 
faintness came over her, she breathed 
short, and she was unable to move a step 
further. 

Monteagle and others entreated her to 
return to the parlor, and to defer the 
trying scene till the morning, but she 
answered them by a look which -fully 
convinced them of her determination, 
and they therefore desisted. 

In a few moments she partially reco- 
vered herself, but still she had not suflS- 
cient courage or resolution to enter the 
chamber. 

She stood and listened, supported by 
the arm of her lover, and her ears caught 
the sound of the breathing of the patient, 
every respiration going to her heart like 
a stream of fire. 

In a moment the breathing sounds 
ceased, and all was still as death. 

‘He sleeps, he sleeps, and probably 
dreams of her who ’ 

‘ Hark ! hark !’ hastily interrupted our 


208 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES OF SAN FRANCISCO. 


heroine ; * those sounds — do listen ; — 
those words — those words— ,;y heart 
will burst !’ 

They listened with breathless atten- 
tion, and Monteagle supported the form 
of Inez, in a state of agony too powerful 
for description. In low and plaintive 
tones, sufficient to draw tears frem the 
eyes of the most insensible individual, 
the unfortunate de Castro was singing, 
apparently in his sleep, the words of a 
song Inez had so often sung to please 
him, and which brought to the memory 
many powerful and agonizing recollec- 
tions. 

‘ God ! God ! support me !’ gasped 
forth Inez, clinging to the arm of her 
lover, and her whole frame convulsed 
with anguish. 

‘ Father 1 father 1 dear, dear father ! I 
can bear no more,’ cried Inez ; and 
tearing herself from the hold of Montea- 
gle, she rushed into the chamber, and 
darted to the side of the bed. 

Senor de Castro was sitting up in the 
bed when Inez entered the ■ room, and 
was staring vacantly around him. His 
countenance had undergone little or no 
perceptible change; the ruddy glow of 
health was on his cheeks, and so calm 
and serene was its expression, that it 
seemed almost impossible that his mind 
could be in the deplorable condition in 
which it was. « 

On beholding Inez and the others en- 
ter, he exhibited emotion, but when his 
eyes rested upon the former, a sweet 
smile irradiated his features, and laugh- 
ing with all the joyousness of a child, he 
exclaimed : — 

‘Beautiful! — oh, how beautiful! — 
THE 


what a bright and lovely vision ! — Her 
very self ! — So like her ! — But ’tis only 
fancy — only fancy — ha ! ha ! ha 1 — How 
beautiful 1’ 

‘ Father ! father ! — dear, dear father ! 
Do you not know me ? Ohj God I what 
a bitter trial is this I’ frantically sobbed 
forth the distracted Inez, as she threw 
her arms around the poor old man’s 
neck, and pressed warm and delirioys 
kisses upon his lips. 

In a few moments Senor de Castro 
began to regain his scattered senses, 
and gazed round him like one slowly 
awaking from a fearful dream. 

He at length fully recognized his child. 
Then followed a scene too ajffecting for 
pen or pencil to describe. 

But one subject remained to cloud 
their happiness. It was the absence of 
Alice Hewlett, of whose abduction, by 
Blodget, they learned from the old wo- 
man at the ranch. Bitterly did Inez 
deplore the sad fate which had befallen 
the lovely ‘ Squatter’s Daughter.’ 

Brown fled upon hearing of the arrest 
of the gang. 

Monteagle was of course cleared of 
all complicity in the robbery of the 
store, by this confession, and Mr. Vande- 
water gave him a share in his business 
as some recompense for his unjust dis- 
missal. 

The little church at the Mission was 
soon after gaily decorated, and before its 
humble altar the hands of Inez and 
Monteagle were united. Their hearts 
had been so from the day our hero bore 
the fainting maiden in safety from the 
flames. 

END. 




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